


a coin toss and a fork in the road

by qwerty



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Bad Sex, Community: kinkme_merlin, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Genderswap, M/M, Rape/Non-con References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-08
Updated: 2011-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-16 19:30:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwerty/pseuds/qwerty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sorcerer casts a curse to enchant Arthur into a woman's shape, with the only thing that can save his life being to have sex. One of two things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heads: Merlin

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted as Choose Your Own Adventure on kinkme_merlin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The curse hits Merlin.

The magic that gathered as the sorcerer chanted felt like nothing Merlin had ever sensed before, and he hesitated - for one critical instant -- instead of simply hurling himself at Arthur as was his usual instinct (to the despair of Gaius and profound irritation on Arthur's part), and they were just that instant too slow to get out of the way. Light and heat washed over them as they fell to the ground together.

Knights rushed forward and seized hold of the sorcerer, who had crumpled in on himself half-crying and half-laughing.

"My revenge," he shrieked, more shrill hysteria than righteous anger in his tones, "My revenge is that you shall lose your son, in every possible way. You will know what it is to have your child dishonoured and used by bounty-hunting filth, with no recourse, nothing but the stake to look forward to, because she had the misfortune to be born with magic!" The sorcerer finished his tirade with blood-spotted froth on his lips, and spat red at the feet of the knights restraining him.

King Uther stepped forward and seized the raving man by the neck. "Whatever happened to your daughter she deserved for using witchcraft. Now tell me what you have done to my son!" He'd barely spared a glance at the crumpled heap that was Arthur and his manservant, who had managed to get (or keep, he wasn't sure which) his eyes open but not managed to convince himself to move.

The sorcerer laughed in the King's face, spraying him with bloody spittle. "Your daughter will learn, she will learn so many things. If she wants to become a man again she will do it all. If she would rather preserve her honour, she will die within the week, because it is against nature to be pressed into another shape in this way."

"You're insane," snarled the King, shoving him away with such force the knights nearly lost their grip on the sorcerer. But it didn't matter anyway. The man coughed up more blood and crumpled on himself. Then he stopped breathing.

Arthur sat up. Merlin, still somewhat stunned, flailed a little and slid down into Arthur's lap. They stared at each other, wide-eyed.

Arthur put a hand on Merlin's chest, starting to push him away. "What just happened here," he said, and paused, looked down at his hand. And pushed up a little, and down again, as if kneading. Merlin's eyes fixed on his hand and crossed a little. "What."

"You're. You're rubbing my chest," Merlin said, flatly.

"You have," Arthur raised his other hand and planted it on the other side of Merlin's chest. "You have breasts." Merlin stared down at Arthur's hands, which had curved slightly to cup his-- His small breasts.

"Sire," said Sir Leon from behind Arthur, red-faced and sounding deeply scandalised. "You can't put your hands on your man, I mean your maid, not like that. Not in public, that is."

"Nor in private," said Gaius in dire tones, sweeping in to pull Merlin to his feet and away from Arthur, who continued staring dumbly at his hands. Merlin went with him pliantly, unable to take his eyes off the gentle curves rising from his shirt. He could still feel the heat of Arthur's palms on them.

The king burst out guffawing, shattering the nervous stillness of the assembled court. "Once again, you owe your life to your manservant, or should I say maidservant? And more than your life, your manhood, it seems. Gaius, find out if there's anything you can do for your ward and see to it. You two, dispose of the sorcerer's carcass. Court is closed for the day." he finished with a firm gesture of dismissal.

Once in the safety of Gaius's rooms, Merlin pulled his arm from the court physician's firm grip and looked down his shirt, ignoring the huff of protest Gaius let out. "Really, Merlin." He hurried to his room and checked the contents of his breeches, and studied the subtle changes to his face in a small mirror, and finally grabbed his own breast again, giving it a hard squeeze. It was not a dream. It was-- rather soft and perky. Merlin looked down at himself and could not hold back a shudder. He was a tall, skinny girl with big, ridiculous ears and small, perky breasts. A _girl_.

He stepped back into the main room, hoping Gaius had already found an answer, but the old man only sighed loudly at him, as if it were all his fault, and continued rummaging through his bookshelves, pulling out, flipping through and abandoning heavy volumes as though they were so much rubbish.

Merlin was still curled up in a huddled lump of denial in a corner while Gaius rooted through piles of books and papers when Arthur rapped sharply on the door once and let himself in without waiting for a response, Sir Leon at his heels. Arthur's eyes fell on him and flicked away immediately, as though unable to bear the sight of Merlin's changed form, however similar to his original body. Probably thinking of his own narrow escape. He should have let Arthur take this hit himself for once. It would have been poetic justice for the way he was constantly calling Merlin a girl.

"The theory of it is sound," Gaius was telling Arthur, and Merlin pulled himself together, realising he should have paid attention to this, what Gaius was saying about his situation. "It is possible that the sorcerer laid out a set of conditions that must be-- fulfilled in order for the curse to lift."

"What conditions?" Arthur asked, flicking another sharp glance in Merlin's direction. Merlin felt his face heat, recalling what he had heard of the dead sorcerer's tirade against the king. "Never mind, is it true what he said, that Merlin will die if-- if he doesn't change back?"

Gaius exhaled in a long, heavy breath. "Yes."

"Wait, Gaius, is there--" He needed to know, never mind Arthur or Leon, "is there some way -- if the curse cannot be lifted-- to make a potion, or something, that can change me back?"

Gaius frowned at him severely, shooting anxious glares at Arthur and the knight, and scanned a stack of crumpled papers that they had found in the dead sorcerer's house. "Even if one could override the curse," he said very carefully, "such a transformation would be no simple trick. The differences between a male and female body go deep, and to attempt to force such a transformation twice over... Well. The first transformation killed the sorcerer; that might give you a clue." He patted Merlin's shoulder, as if reassuring him. "On the bright side," Gaius added, flipping through the sorcerer's tattered spellbook, "it seems he has not tied the conditions for lifting the curse to any particular man, so..."

"You can't mean that," Merlin burst out and snatched the book from Gaius, slamming it on the table. "I'm not going to be stuck like this, I'm not going to die if I don't let some man--" He trailed off as he realised that his voice was all but quavering, that he really was on the verge of crying like a girl, and there was a rack of little jars of powders behind Arthur and Sir Leon that was starting to rattle slightly. The knowledge that if he lost his head now he would in fact lose his actual head, curse or not, sent a rush of cold fear through him sufficient to make him gulp down whatever else he was going to say and stop the rack from shaking.

The way Arthur was stealing glances at him, furtive and pitying, and Sir Leon's quietly speculative look, were almost worse than the curse itself.

Gaius put his hands on Merlin's shoulders and gently guided him behind himself, as if he could shield Merlin from their eyes with his own frail body. "Merlin, calm down. We don't know everything about the spell yet. There is plenty of time. We can talk about this later. Sire, if there's nothing else?"

Arthur cleared his throat, then coughed and cleared his throat again. This was a look Merlin knew well from all the times Arthur found himself powerless to do things like stop his father from ordering the execution of Gwen, or Gwen's father, or Gaius, or Merlin... anyone Uther had decided needed executing that week. Merlin knew nothing that Arthur could say would dissuade Uther. Arthur knew it as well. It was almost funny that Arthur always tried anyway.

It was a lot less funny when Arthur started talking. "I had Sir Leon arrest and question the men who brought in the sorceress who-- the daughter of the sorcerer who cast the curse. We have a list, of, if you need to--" he stopped and cleared his throat once more. "Things they said they-- We have a list." Arthur's eyes wandered up to a point on the wall somewhere above Merlin's head. "They should not have-- they will be tried and punished for what they did. This was dishonourable, an outrage," he continued with increasing intensity, passionately addressing the wall between Merlin and Gaius while Sir Leon twiddled his thumbs uncomfortably.

"Arthur, shut up," Merlin said at last. Arthur cut himself off and managed to meet his eyes. Briefly.

"Sire, if you will give us the list and allow us some time to think the matter over," Gaius inserted diplomatically, and Arthur looked relieved, fumbling out a piece of parchment that seemed to have been crushed by a hand and then smoothed out again imperfectly. Gaius took it from him and furrowed his brows immediately.

"Of course. If you need anything--" Arthur said, and turned on his heel almost before Gaius nodded acknowledgement. Sir Leon inclined his head politely and followed the prince out.

"Merlin," Gaius said after a long silence, "stop looking down your shirt and help me check these remaining shelves. I will go speak with Geoffrey about some of the older texts in his collection."

He'd tried and failed to call the dragon, for all of the first night. Something about the change had thrown off all his instincts and balance. He broke several precious glass vials and beakers when he got upset, turned his room upside down when he fell asleep exhausted as he had not done since his first days in Camelot, and mostly felt itchy and wrong both inside and out.

Morgana was laughing at him, he was sure, and no doubt monopolising most of Gwen's time so she could neither comfort nor help him.

It took four days of desperate searching through all the illegal writings Geoffrey and Gaius had managed to squirrel away out of King Uther's sight (and therefore mind) and a twisting cramp in his midsection that had felt like all his insides were being rearranged before Merlin would concede that if there was a way to break the curse rather than lift it, they probably would not be able to find it in such a short time. Merlin had fallen over and curled up in agony at the base of the shelves on the upper level, just a foot away from falling down the stairs, and the look on Gaius's drawn, haggard face when he came back and found Merlin that way, crying from the pain and helplessness, convinced Merlin he was just being ridiculous and stubborn.

Gaius helped him down to the cot they used for patients, it being the closest, poured a stupendously vile potion down his throat, and sat by his side stroking his hair while the noxious brew took effect.

"I want to see that list Arthur gave you," Merlin said as soon as the cramp eased enough for him to sit up again. The old man's expression turned so wretched and relieved at the same time that Merlin threw his arms around Gaius and hugged him hard. Which was how Arthur found them when he stuck his head in for what had become his usual morning check.

"Merlin!" he barked, startling Merlin and Gaius apart.

"What?" Merlin snapped back automatically, peeved but surprisingly glad to hear the familiar impatient edge to Arthur's tone. Arthur had been unnaturally gracious, even deferential in giving Merlin all the time off he wanted rather than making incredible messes and pestering Merlin at all hours of the day as usual, most likely because the sight of Merlin's changed form disturbed him, but it only served to remind Merlin of his predicament. He did come in twice a day to check if Merlin had recovered in his absence, but the odd grimaces he made every time his eyes wandered down Merlin's body made it impossible to tell if he was distressed or relieved that Merlin hadn't managed to lift the curse.

"What are you-- Gaius is too," Arthur blustered a little, and the sudden realisation of what he had thought they were doing made both Merlin and Gaius blanch in horror.

"Sire," Gaius began in a quavering voice, but Merlin overrode him immediately.

"We were not doing anything, how could you, Gaius is like a father to me! I," he tried to continue, then it was too much; his guts _wrenched_ again and he doubled over silently.

"What's wrong with him?" Arthur demanded as Gaius put his hands on Merlin's shoulders and kindly ordered him to just breathe, slowly and steadily, until the cramp eased.

"His body is rejecting the magic binding him in this form," Gaius said quietly. "It may be tearing him apart."

"Then you need to get someone to lift the curse!" Arthur said, and Merlin let out a surprised laugh.

"I was just telling Gaius that," he agreed, and Arthur looked appalled all over again.

"Are you sure, I mean, Gaius," Arthur was sputtering while Gaius's eyebrows rose higher and higher and Merlin tried, really tried, to keep from pulling the biggest bookshelf down from the loft onto Arthur's head, but he could hear the wood creaking, so he simply yanked out a pillow and threw it at his stupid face.

"I said no! I'm not asking Gaius to do that, I just wanted to know what I, what I have to," he stopped, irritated that he could hear his own voice rising in pitch and reminded once more about The Curse, thank you very much.

It helped a little that Arthur had turned nearly as red as Merlin felt he must be. Then he opened his mouth again and any goodwill Merlin might have scraped together evaporated completely. "Is there anyone in particular you wouldn't mind," he paused and made a sort of gesture that was probably meant to be rude and illustrative, but like all the hunting signs Merlin had never managed to pick up, looked mostly like he was trying to kill someone, possibly by strangling them.

All this time, Merlin had somehow had the vague notion that if their forays into researching illegal curse-breaking magic failed, he'd still be able to count on Arthur to help... do it. Now that Arthur was asking for suggestions that were not him, Merlin found himself at a complete loss. He swallowed, cast around for a friendly name, and could only come up with a weak, "Gwen?"

"She's a woman, she wouldn't be able to," Arthur seemed about to gesture again before he thought better of it, dismissing the idea more impatiently and with less anger than Merlin might have expected. "Think."

Merlin thought. "Gwaine? No, sending someone to find him and bring him back would take too much time," he decided on second thought. Which made Lancelot even more impractical an idea.

"Just go to the nearest tavern and you'll probably have him," Arthur said disparagingly, his expression flinty.

Merlin blinked and mentally ran over his last words before realising that Arthur was talking about Gwaine, not Lancelot, and had to laugh a little. Giggle, it sounded like. He hated himself.

Gaius cleared his throat loudly, and Merlin immediately worried that with all the dust and lack of sleep, that he might be coming down with something. But Gaius only squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "I need to make my rounds. Lady Miranda wanted me to check on her daughter's progress, and Master John's bandages need changing. I have everything I need," he added as Merlin made to spring up to help him prepare. "Talk to Arthur and rest."

They watched Gaius leave, and suddenly the atmosphere seemed even more awkward. "I, erm. I can't think of anyone else," Merlin admitted after a weighty pause, then remembered the considering look Sir Leon had given him that first day. Leon wasn't that bad, he supposed; he was usually friendly and not as dismissive as some of the knights could be, especially when Arthur was making fun of Merlin for their amusement.

Just as Merlin was about to suggest asking Sir Leon, Arthur cleared his throat, even more dramatically than Gaius had. Merlin thought immediately of Morwen in the kitchen coughing over the soup, and wondered if it might be catching. Arthur cleared his throat again, and cast his gaze skyward, as though they might find answers in Gaius's ceiling.

Or spiders. Merlin had automatically looked up with him, and that was really a very large spider. Wow. But Arthur didn't seem to be looking at it.

"I could," he said, and Merlin jerked his head around to stare at him so quickly he could hear something pop in his neck. "I could do it, if you don't mind. I know what's on the list, and it's not so bad," he said slowly, turning his eyes back on Merlin and watching him carefully. What he saw seemed to satisfy him, and he smiled a little. "Not much different from what we do all the time, apart from," he made another sort of gesture, one that looked less like he was trying to wring somebody's neck.

Merlin felt an undignified snorting laugh bubble up from somewhere, and punched Arthur on the arm.

Merlin had been so focused on figuring out who might be able to help him with his curse that he'd just about forgotten that was only the beginning and he still needed to actually go through with the curse-lifting. This uncomfortable realisation began to sink directly after he'd punched Arthur's arm and Arthur swatted his head and he shoved the pillow in Arthur's face and Arthur wrestled it away from him and stopped half an inch short of pushing him in the chest. He stopped laughing when Arthur froze, and looked down, stared at the hand hovering _there_.

"I told you it wasn't much different from what we normally do," Arthur muttered, sounding defensive, like he'd been caught doing something he didn't want known.

For some reason, his attitude reminded Merlin of Will when Hunith had caught him wanking behind the woodpile. (Merlin had never been more glad that he'd just discovered how to shape fluids that day and had been absorbed in making gruel-monsters out of a particularly tasteless bowl of porridge.) "If that's meant to be reassuring," he started to say, then realised that yes, it did sound reassuring, in that while Arthur did do all sorts of horrible things to Merlin for the purpose of amusing himself, at least he didn't have to imagine what sort of new horrible things he would be doing to Merlin for the purpose of lifting the curse. "Erm. That _is_ reassuring," he admitted with a sheepish smile.

Arthur hastily withdrew the nearly offending hand and tried to return the smile. He glanced over at the door to Merlin's tiny room, and swallowed.

"I was thinking. You should come to my room," he said, face serious. "It's bigger, more private. And besides, you spend almost more time in my room than in your own. It will be familiar and so more comfortable."

"That means you are obviously working me too hard and should give me more time off, not finding ways to keep me in there more," Merlin pointed out logically, while inside he thought frantically for some neutral place that he would never have to see and be reminded again, but Arthur had already covered the most salient points he could think of in offering his room. His bed, that Merlin would have to change every day.

Arthur simply scowled. "Just get some clothes and whatever else you need, and come to my bed-- that is, my room as soon as you are able. I need to oversee the knights' training and look at reports from the returning patrols." He hesitated, and patted Merlin on the shoulder. "Get some rest while you can," he added gruffly.

Merlin watched him leave, then looked around, trying to decide what he needed. A change of clothes, what else? Perhaps he should wait for Gaius to return first. He tried to imagine asking Gaius. No, he should just go, before he lost his nerve. If Gaius thought of something, he would send someone with word. He gathered up the clothes, then thought to add a little jar of salve, at the last instant, in case he needed to... ease the way.

Having prepared his little bundle, Merlin glanced about the room one last time, counting to ten, then gritted his teeth and set off on the familiar route to Arthur's rooms.

"Merlin!" Gwen said from behind him, making him jump. He turned around slowly to face her, and she took him by the shoulders, looking him up and down in amazement. "You're really a girl," she blurted, and clapped her hand over her mouth, blushing. "I'm sorry! I'd heard stories, but I didn't think," she said, and stared some more.

It suddenly struck Merlin that while he'd missed her company terribly in theory, he really hadn't thought about Gwen seeing his changed body, and he had a sudden thought that he didn't want her to see him like this, a skinny and funny-looking girl when he'd been a perfectly nice-looking young man, when Gwen was wonderful and pretty and curvy and everything Arthur wanted.

And he was going to Arthur's bed when he knew Gwen and Arthur cared for each other.

This was a terrible idea. He should turn around and ask Sir Leon, or... someone, anyone who wouldn't have someone who would be hurt by this.

"You look awful," Gwen said, cruelly echoing his thought, which startled him at first, then she caught herself as usual. "I mean, you look awful-awful, like you're not sleeping or eating right, not that you don't look very pretty anyway, but you probably don't want to hear that you're pretty, oh, I'm just saying this all wrong again, aren't I?" she asked unhappily, and Merlin felt a warm rush of affection for her all over again, and thought, the hell with propriety, he was a girl now, and threw his arms around her, hugging tight. She squeezed him back, sniffling.

"You're still the best, Gwen. Don't ever change," he burbled, and to his own horror found he was sniffing back tears and snot too. "If I could, I'd want you to be the one to break my curse," he said, and thumped her back, just to feel a little more manly again, if Arthur and his knights were the standard for manliness.

"Don't be silly," she scolded fondly, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing carefully at his face like a mother. "Can you tell how far the curse is along? How much more do you have to do?" Then she frowned fiercely, reminding him of when she'd taken up arms and gone with him to help him defend Ealdor. "Is Arthur treating you right? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Arthur?" Merlin blanked out a little, trying to make sense of the quick patter. How far- how much more- _Arthur...!_ "We didn't, we haven't done anything," he protested quickly, clutching his things in terrified shame, because _they had just decided to--_

 _"You haven't done anything? I thought Arthur would, why haven't you!" Gwen bit off what she was going to say, looking furious and appalled. "Gaius said you could die! If I had a--"_

 _"I'm sorry," Merlin said. "But you and Arthur--"_

 _Gwen clapped her hands on his shoulders and earnestly stared him down. "There were no promises. There's nothing between us yet. More importantly, we care for you. Arthur has always had these feelings. He's been worried out of his mind these past few days. I was beginning to wonder what horrible things he had been forced to do to you!"_

 _"I'm going to Arthur's room now." He flushed and bowed his head._

 _Gwen laughed and hugged him again, then sobered a little. "Actually, I came to look for you. I was worried about the curse, you see, so I went down to the lower town to ask about the sorceress."_

 _Merlin felt himself blanch a little, thinking how it would be if his now unstable magic were discovered._

 _"Oh, no, it's a good thing, I think," Gwen said and squeezed his hands. "It seems there was a bit of a misunderstanding? The gossip says that she _eloped_ because her father didn't approve. They were living together. It was only when she was seen doing magic in public that her lover's friend denounced her to save himself. Just yesterday, the man she was to have married tried to kill the friend. So whatever they were doing..."_

"It wasn't," he whispered, closing his eyes.

"But I was telling Gaius, and he said that you need to take the blue vial behind the leeches and drink it. He says it's very important, you know what it's for."

Merlin thought, and remembered the potion. He did know what it was for.

Gwen hovered anxiously while he went back in and dug out the potion Gaius wanted him to drink. He stared at it too long and nearly fumbled and dropped it when he tried to just stuff it in among his bundle of things.

"What is it, Merlin?" she asked, taking the bundle from him and refolding the clothes properly, then setting the little vial neatly on top before handing it back to him. "Here you go."

"It's just," he said, feeling heat rise to his face and ears, "sort of a, a, something for women, to-- just, I didn't think I'd need it." He'd not even imagined there might be a possibility. He'd just hope he and Gaius could find some way to break or reverse the spell and avoid all that altogether. And now he'd just made everyone worry and he still needed to...

He felt something, a twinge, and had just enough presence of mind to put down his things before the cramp reached into him again and wrenched at his insides. Gwen caught him and eased him towards the floor, calling for help while he clutched at her arms in panic, trying to draw breath through the pain.

A guard was the first to arrive in response. It was probably someone he knew, if only he could focus enough to see his face and think of a name. The guard and Gwen conferred in tones of muted panic, trying to decide on whether to carry him to his own bed, which was nearer, or bring him to Arthur's, because.

They had not noticed the shivery creak and rattle of the shelves yet, not over the strangled keen clawing in his throat. He let his hands slip from Gwen's hands and clenched his fists tight. Arthur would notice, he thought distantly. Arthur would notice if he touched Merlin and something happened. After all his practicing over the past years to keep his magic from responding to every whim and instinct, this would be how Arthur found out.

The cramp had receded into violent shivering that made his teeth chatter, and his bed won out, possibly because the idea of simply depositing Merlin in the prince's bed without an express order from the prince himself was too much for the guard, or Merlin, though Gwen disagreed.

Then Arthur swept into the room, shouldering the stammering guard aside. He wrapped Merlin up in the blanket and lifted him carefully. Gwen exchanged a quick look with Arthur and ran to grab Merlin's bundle from the table while Arthur carried him from the room.

The rocking motion of Arthur's ground-devouring strides made Merlin feel rather nauseated, which distracted him from the pain, but on the other hand, he really couldn't decide which felt worse.

He just focused on not throwing up or crying, and nearly broke when he felt Gwen's gentle hand on his face when she caught up and started running alongside. "Hold on, we're nearly there," she said.

If he was tempted to think it was a lie to make him feel better... Arthur stopped while Gwen threw open the door, then he was being lowered onto a sickeningly soft bed that he was sure had been harder the last time he came to change the sheets, before the curse. There were a bottle and two jars sitting by the bed, he realised, and a book with torn scraps of notes and diagrams he could just barely make out lying open on the table.

Arthur had been studying, it seemed. Preparing to--

He didn't know what he thought of that. Gwen whispered something and kissed his forehead, then she was gone, the door closing behind her. He stopped thinking when Arthur bent over him and kissed him.

Softly at first, like the courtly kisses he had offered first Sophia, then Vivian, and Gwen. The pain receded, then fell away altogether, and Merlin had the sudden thought, _What the hell_ , it wasn't like he'd get any better opportunities than this-- and reached up to cup Arthur's face and kissed back with everything he had. For the duration of this curse, Arthur was his, and only his.

The kiss, hesitant on both sides at first, deepened, became more exploratory, as they grew more comfortable with each other. Then things got complicated.

Merlin tried to add tongue into the mix, and became a little flustered when his tongue caught on Arthur's crooked teeth first, and started again when he actually encountered Arthur's tongue. Arthur huffed a little, amused, and eased back to nibbling and suckling lightly on Merlin's lips and the tip of his tongue.

A gentle swipe over the sensitive roof of his mouth tickled Merlin and made him gasp and nearly bite down, then Arthur tipped his face up and began kissing and licking lightly along his jaw and down his neck. Merlin bit back a whimper and tried to focus on holding back his magic, hands fluttering uncertainly over Arthur's arms and shoulders as the strange, new touches seemed to draw out tingling feelings in places Arthur wasn't even close to touching.

When he felt a strange slick wetness push out and spill between his legs, Merlin uttered a small cry and jerked away from Arthur's mouth on the hollow of his throat, breathless, humiliated.

Arthur eased back a little, then slowly bent again to brush his lips softly over Merlin's cheek. "It's all right, I'm not going to hurt you," he murmured against Merlin's ear, and Merlin shuddered as more wetness pushed out from that frightening slash between his legs that he'd tried to avoid any more attention than needed to relieve himself and keep clean.

Evidently sensing his distress, Arthur retreated again to settle himself by Merlin's side instead of over him, breathing softly and slowly as he let his head thump down on and rock the pillow next to Merlin's head. His cheeks were flushed, as though kissing Merlin had been enough to get him worked up too. Or perhaps he found all this as painful and embarrassing as Merlin did, more likely.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said, and worse and worse, his eyes were beginning to prickle hotly and his throat seemed to be swelling up. "Please continue."

Arthur sighed, put an arm around Merlin and pulled him in to his side, so he lay pressed all along the warm length of Arthur's body. Merlin trembled, against his will, and felt Arthur stroking his hair, fingers leaving trails of lingering sensation over his scalp to the nape of his neck. "I can't do anything to you that you don't want."

Merlin found himself startled almost into laughter. He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his fists in Arthur's shirt, while Arthur's fingers traced over Merlin's lips and neck, and along the curve of his collarbone. "You always do things to me that I don't want. Prat. I thought that was why you agreed to do this."

"This is different." The idly stroking fingers stilled. Merlin could feel the increasing rigidity in the body against his. "I can't do this to you unless you want it."

Somehow, Merlin felt betrayed, as though he had secretly wanted Arthur to take all decision and responsibility into his own hands, and then he felt both guilty and cheated. He unclenched hid fists, flattening his hands over Arthur's chest with an effort of will, and opened his eyes to stare back at Arthur. He could almost feel Arthur holding his breath.

"I want to live, so I must be willing," he said flatly. "Do it."

Arthur growled, deep in his chest, and rolled to cover Merlin, kissing him roughly. Merlin bit down and tasted blood, but couldn't tell if he'd drawn Arthur's blood or it was from his own cracked lips. Arthur's hand paused at and squeezed his shoulder, then Merlin shoved him and scrabbled backwards until he could sit up, skinned out of his worn nightshirt and threw it aside.

Keeping his mind resolutely blank, Merlin sucked in a quick breath and went after the laces on his breeches next. He fumbled at the knot, cursed under his breath and tugged again uselessly, furious at himself.

Just as he thought they were about to give, Arthur caught his hands and held them still. Merlin stared at his bony white fingers trapped in Arthur's tanned, rough hands, and thought with a distant sort of surprise that he had no memory of how his hands should look in Arthur's to compare this with. Surely his hands were smaller and thinner, like the rest of him, but the real difference was minor enough that he wouldn't know from just looking that Arthur was holding a woman's hands and not Merlin's.

"Merlin, stop," said Arthur. He squeezed Merlin's hands, gently but firmly. Merlin tried to slow down his breathing and the racing of his heart, sure that Arthur could feel his pulse in his hands somehow. "Come on, let me catch up here."

Arthur let his hands go and pulled off his belt, then his shirt, looking down at himself self-consciously as Merlin's eyes went automatically to the broad expanse of his bared chest. Merlin was suddenly very aware of the soft mounds hanging from his own chest, and the tingling nipples standing out shamelessly on the peaks.

"Arthur," he said. Arthur inhaled deliberately slowly, staring at Merlin while Merlin clenched his fists on the cool sheets to prevent himself from acting on a sudden impulse to cover himself. Still breathing deeply, Arthur put his hands on Merlin's shoulders again, keeping his eyes fixed on Merlin's face. "You don't have to be-- I'm not fragile," he got out, and was relieved that he had managed it without his voice cracking.

"Aren't you?" Arthur asked, a wry twist to his mouth. He leaned forward slowly, easing Merlin back to lie on the bed, stroking his arm. Then he touched Merlin's collarbone again, but instead of tracing down his arm again, drew a finger straight down his chest, between his breasts to dip into his navel while Merlin felt himself alternately cringing from and trying to press up into the feathery sensation, then Arthur spread his hand wide over Merlin's hipbone, the warm shape branding his skin through the material of his breeches. "Tell me you aren't fragile now."

Merlin tried and failed to hold back a shiver. Arthur's eyes narrowed. "You've never been careful with me," he said. "You always," he waved a hand vaguely, as if to express years of traipsing about in the woods, improbable arms practices and assorted flung objects.

He closed his eyes as Arthur bent and brushed his lips against his again, kept his eyes closed and arms at his side as Arthur curved a hand over his ribs, while the other hand began to work at the laces of his breeches.

Then Arthur stopped, and Merlin opened his eyes. Arthur's mouth was set in grim, unhappy lines as he stared down at Merlin. "You never just laid back and took it before. You never let me do anything without questioning and arguing and insulting me. You never _give up_ like this."

Merlin felt angry heat rise to his cheeks and worse, his eyes and ears. "How dare you-- I'm not-- I haven't-- I didn't give up! I tried everything. _Everything._ " he blurted, thinking of nights spent railing at the silent skies and huddling with a candle over torn parchments until light crept into the edge of the horizon as he tried to work out the sorcerer's spell again secretly while Gaius slept, afraid that Gaius would wake up to find his lifeless body.

"You have no idea," he said, trying to blink away indignant tears. "No idea what I did. If you don't want to do this, tell me and I'll find someone else," he added, in a burst of bravado.

Before he could get up to make good on his threat, Arthur grabbed the stubborn laces again and snapped them off with a sharp tug, then gritted his teeth and set to work on his own breeches. Merlin gave himself half a moment to panic, then lifted up his hips and pulled off his breeches before Arthur had another attack of his strange qualms and changed his mind again.

When it sank in that they were both naked at last, things suddenly became extremely awkward.

They spent several long, blood-roaring-in-ears heartbeats taking in each other's nudity. Merlin had seen Arthur's naked body in the course of his service too many times to be bothered much by it anymore, except for the singular, salient difference standing at attention and almost seeming to be staring at him.

Much as Arthur was. Merlin had not had occasion to undress in Arthur's presence for the most part, and the prince's expression of intense concentration was frankly alarming. Merlin was sure it was the same expression he had when he was deciding how to most efficiently take a rabbit from furry carcass to roasted rabbit whenever they went hunting without any knights in tow and Arthur had to help make his own dinner.

"So! Let's do this," Arthur said briskly, sounding exactly the way he did when he threw armour and weapons at Merlin and dragged him out for practice. All they needed was for Arthur to clap his hands and start rooting for whatever weapon he had decided to use on Merlin that day to complete the impression.

Merlin decided it was his turn to start worrying. "Wait," he started to say, just as Arthur tackled him, and when he felt the Very Salient Difference brush against him Down There, he squeaked in distress and there was an ominous sound of cracking wood.

"What was that?" Arthur asked, and was answered by the snapping of the legs of the bed nearest Merlin.

The bed toppled to one side, dropping them right on the edge by the floor, and Arthur on top and into Merlin. A dazzling jolt of pain split all the way through Merlin, making him want to cross his legs and just die right now instead of having to carry on. "Ow," he said in a pathetically faint voice. Above him, Arthur had braced himself automatically to keep from completely flattening Merlin, but he was a little wild-eyed and trembling. "Don't move," Merlin whispered, and pounded on Arthur's shoulder with his fist, desperately.

"You are so unbelievably bad at this," he gasped, and gave serious thought to whether biting Arthur to keep from screaming would help with the pain at all. It had seemed to relieve Molly the laundry maid when he'd helped Gaius deliver her baby that one time. "Have you actually done this before?"

Arthur sucked in a ragged breath and twitched, sending fresh waves of pain throbbing through Merlin. " _I read the book Monmouth gave me,_ " he grated out, and it took Merlin far too long to understand the words.

"What?"

Arthur groaned like a dying man, starting to pull out.

"Don't, ow, don't you dare move," Merlin gasped and clutched at his shoulders, digging his nails in. Arthur dropped his head on Merlin's shoulder silently. His hair tickled Merlin terribly, and now Merlin couldn't decide if he should grit his teeth and shove Arthur off him or try to burn all his stupid blond fluff off his head.

"Did you break the bed?" asked Arthur after they'd spent the better part of an eternity recovering from the mishap. He sounded almost his normal annoying self again. Merlin half expected to hear him cast aspersions on his intelligence or abilities again.

When he realised what Arthur had said, Merlin tensed all over and Arthur moaned and rocked slightly into him again, involuntarily. And then the remaining legs of the bed snapped as well, dropping them again. "Oof," Merlin said miserably.

"You did break the bed," Arthur accused, and rubbed his nose on Merlin's shoulder. "You useless sorcerer."

"If anyone asks, I'll say you were amazing," Merlin murmured without thinking, automatically falling back into accustomed habits of teasing Arthur, his mind blank with shock at the revelation of Arthur's knowledge.

Arthur grinned. "The earth moved."

They tried moving again, but the angle or something was wrong, and it still hurt, stinging where Merlin was sure he had felt something rip, and a deeper ache throbbing where Arthur had pretty much slammed fully in when they had fallen with the bed. Merlin pounded on Arthur's shoulder again.

"Stop. Out," he said, while Arthur froze and twitched uncertainly.

"What? We haven't even started," Arthur protested, turning a little red. Merlin pushed at his shoulder again.

"A book. You are absolutely rubbish at this. OFF." Arthur looked slightly panicked as Merlin rolled him off, then relaxed visibly when Merlin got up and climbed over him. "Obviously this wasn't one of those things you have been training at since you were born. I should have gone to look for Gwaine from the start."

Arthur looked irked and reached up, pinching Merlin's cheeks and pulling his face into what had to be a horrible-looking grin. "Too late, you're stuck with me now." Paused, "I did a few things, but getting from kissing to... Royal bastards," he finished, and that explained a few things. "Besides, I'm amazing, you said."

"I hate you," Merlin said with feeling. "I'm going to have to do everything myself if I want it done properly. Give me that list."

Arthur blushed. "Why can't we work our way up to that slowly, do whatever comes naturally to us first?"

"What comes naturally to you is slipping and falling into a-" Merlin said, and pressed his legs tightly together, feeling a twinge just from the memory of it. More liquid squeezed out when he tensed, and he shut his eyes in quiet horror at the sensation of wetness sliding down his thigh. When he opened his eyes again, Arthur was regarding him with a soft, pitying look.

He tried to smile for Arthur's sake. "Just let me," he said, backing down to bend over Arthur's lap so he would not have to look at that expression any longer.

Putting his mouth there was familiar, as was the amazed whimper -Will- he thought, and opened his eyes to look up and remind himself it was Arthur. Then he pulled back and blurted, "You taste funny."

Arthur's heavy lidded eyes instantly went from hazy awe to outraged glare. "I taste f--, you're the one who tastes funny," he said and rapped Merlin on his head.

"Oh," Merlin said, reminded, and used a corner of the bedsheet to wipe Arthur's prick clean fastidiously while Arthur clutched at the bedsheets and stared at him, face frozen in a grimace of apparent agony. When Merlin put his mouth back over it and started to suck, Arthur's hips jerked up and he came immediately.

Merlin choked and sputtered until he coughed it out, then scrubbed the back of his hand across his mouth and went, "ow," again as he felt the dried corners of his mouth crack. "I hate you," he reiterated, then looked back at Arthur, and was a little taken aback by the look of wonder on his face.

"Your eyes, they're amazing like that," Arthur said, scrambling forward to frame his face with trembling hands. "All focused and _glowing_."

"I what, glowing?" Arthur kissed his come-splattered mouth softly and stared deep into his eyes as though fascinated, and Merlin felt ridiculous and embarrassed. "What do you mean?"

"Your eyes," Arthur murmured, and kissed his eyes to emphasise his words, "they've been glowing gold. Just flashes at first, then more and more. The last two days, they were gold all the time. Gaius said it was the curse, but I already had suspicions, and I got to thinking--"

"Glowing," Merlin said, in shock, realising he'd not bothered to look in a mirror past the first two days when he'd hoped the curse would wear off naturally, and how carefully Gaius had been keeping him confined without making it obvious. Arthur had figured it out; who else would have if he'd decided to go out instead of hiding in the physician's rooms? Gaius should have told him.

"Merlin," Arthur repeated patiently. He felt his insides shiver.

"I have to," he said, waving vaguely at Arthur, and pulled away from his hands, stumbled to the table. Unstopped the vial, thinking about spells and magic and curses, and drank it while Arthur looked on in confusion.

"What's that?" asked Arthur, eyeing the empty vial like he thought it might be poison.

Merlin tried to get the oily taste out of his mouth by swiping his tongue around the inside of his mouth, then, giving up, he poured himself some water and swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing. "It's just a, a preventative."

Arthur sat up, fiddling with the blankets as though he was considering covering himself. "A preventative for what?"

"A, you know. In case a woman has um, an accident. It prevents quickening."

"Is that even possible? I meant, preventing that?" His eyes shot down to Merlin's stomach immediately. "Can you even get-- You were supposed to change back!"

"I thought so too! But Gaius told me to take it, so he must think it's possible. He never said--" Merlin looked down at himself, his skinny female body, and tried to imagine himself bloated around the middle like... he didn't know. He barely knew what a naked female body was supposed to look like, much less a pregnant one.

Merlin took another, bracing gulp of water. "Never mind. I've taken the preventative, so it doesn't matter anymore. Let's carry on with--" he waved a hand vaguely. Arthur was not the the only one who could use stupid meaningless hand movements instead of talking like a sensible person.

Arthur, apparently, was an expert at reading stupid hand movements that even Merlin didn't know the meaning of. He got up and pulled out the crumpled parchment Merlin remembered from his book.

Their fingers touched briefly as Merlin took the parchment from Arthur.

He'd not actually done anything much with a woman before, apart from a little kissing and touching with Freya, but she'd been so fragile, so frightened during the short time he'd known her that he couldn't imagine doing more.

And now he was going to take charge of deflowering himself. And Arthur too, the inconsiderate, _inexperienced_ prat.

Merlin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at the parchment. He rubbed his eyes, then looked at it again.

"That's it? That's all we have to do?"

Arthur stared blankly at him, mouth hanging slightly open, face turning a striking shade of beet. "That's _all?_

"You really haven't done any of these?" Merlin asked, and felt his face start to heat too. "No, I meant, they were supposed to have eloped to escape her father's disapproval, and they had weeks, and this was all they did? Will and I..." Merlin trailed off, abruptly realising it might not be the best idea to keep reminding Arthur he had had all this experience, and with whom.

As expected, Arthur's expression had taken a decided turn towards stormy morning, red thunderclouds with a strong likelihood of tempests. "Will and you?" he asked, in a manner not at all encouraging of confidences. "And, eloped?" he caught on to the information at last.

Merlin had never been so relieved to change the subject.

Should he bring up Gwen? Would Arthur be reminded that he loved her, and-- and what? Making his silent apologies to Gwen, Merlin started.

"You know... About the men who-- who turned the sorceress in."

"Yes, I know, they had a disagreement after they were released. Probably about splitting the reward, like all their kind." Arthur's mouth was set into hard, uncompromising lines, eyes distant with memory.

Merlin looked around the room, then awkwardly got back into the much lowered bed. It felt a little like they were camping, from this lack of height, except they were on a bed and indoors. He wished he could put his clothes back on, and settled for trying to pull half the blanket from under Arthur to tuck over his (battered, aching) lower half. "It seems there was some gossip about, about the sorceress and, well, the men who turned her in."

"Gossip." Arthur's expression remained forbidding. Discomfited, Merlin tugged harder at the blanket. Arthur refused to give it up.

He thought about shoving Arthur off the blanket with his magic, then decided to give it up and just plopped back down beside him. "Just, just that her father didn't approve, and then she ran away with him and they lived together until she was seen doing magic in public. Something like that. That was what I heard, anyway." He stared down at the parchment in his hands and wiggled his toes, waiting for a response.

"It doesn't matter," Arthur said flatly, after a pause. "If they did all that because they wanted to. That's them. You never wanted me."

"You're being ridiculous," Merlin said. He crumpled the parchment and bounced it off Arthur's head. "Why does it matter what I want, this is just to," he waved vaguely. "I mean. You're not forcing me to do anything. And since what they were doing was-- you don't even have to pretend you're-- Isn't that good?"

Arthur made no reply. Instead he put his hand on the back of Merlin's head; not gently, but not quite a grab either, then bent and kissed him. Merlin melted into the kiss, and this time he was ready when he felt the other hand on his breast, caressing and curious, like when he'd just changed, only without the barrier of clothes.

It felt good, strange but good. When the hand started to slip away, he slapped his hand over it and pressed it in place, then pulled himself closer to Arthur, hooking his leg over Arthur's to rub against his renewed erection. This much was easy, this he could be certain Arthur knew as well as he did. And it just felt good to press as much of their bodies together as he could.

Arthur let go of his head to reach around his back and pull him closer, a low rumble in his chest. He gave Merlin's nipple one last tweak before moving his hand down again, but instead of reaching between his legs as Merlin had expected and braced himself for, the hand ended up squeezing his arse. Merlin gasped, and pulled back from kissing a little to catch his breath, wrapping himself, arms and legs and all around Arthur, desperate to somehow get closer, more contact, something. He didn't even care much when he felt himself wet again, pressing slickly against Arthur's leg.

The rough hand on Merlin's arse, with the familiar calluses, became more daring, and fingers moved into the cleft of his cheeks, circling that entrance, then dipped into the wetness beyond. He tensed all over and mouthed Arthur's shoulder to keep in his whimper as he pushed back needily onto the fingers despite his soreness.

Arthur kissed his cheek and neck, and kept kissing, with soft nibbles and flicks of his tongue, holding him close with one arm while the fingers continued to slide in and out, with occasional pauses to explore around the opening. Merlin just clutched at him, panting, forgetting to rub against Arthur in return. Then Arthur brushed against something that sent a bolt of white shock through Merlin, that seemed like pleasure at first until it rippled through him again, and he screamed and tore himself away, falling back on the bed as the power ripped him open from the inside out and the room crackled around them, tables and chairs splitting open and green shoots bursting from the dry wood.

Distantly, he became aware of Arthur grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. "What was that, what happened? Did we do something wrong, is there an order of actions we must follow exactly?"

He shook his head dizzily and flattened himself against Arthur, feeling some comfort and lessening of the tingling under his skin where they touched. "It doesn't make sense. If it had to follow a plan, something would have happened right from the start. We never did anything on the list. If it was tied to my state like Gaius said, it should be getting better, not worse."

Arthur's face set with determination. "Let's finish with the list and see what happens." He did not say what they would do if that didn't work, and Merlin didn't want to consider that possibility either. Merlin nodded into his shoulder.

"So, I lie down on my back, and you," Merlin said, and gestured vaguely at his breasts. He lay back while Arthur carefully approached again, crawling up the bed. He only hesitated a little before he spread his legs to let Arthur settle between them. "And then." His knee bumped Arthur's hip, and Arthur glanced down at their lower bodies, clearly following the order of acts as well as if he still had the list before him.

And then a thought occurred to Merlin. "Do you know what to do down there? I mean, don't use your teeth, really." Arthur turned red again, and glared.

"I'll figure it out. It can't be that hard if even an idiot like you can do it."

"I'm supposed to, before you," Merlin said, feeling his own face heat. He concentrated very hard on getting the string of words out without thinking about what the words actually were. "If I use my mouth, will you go off again before you can put it in me?"

Arthur's blush was starting to look painful, but not nearly as painful as his rampant prick did. "Don't worry, we'll just do it again until we get it right, then," he said, trying to make it sound like one of his usual insults to Merlin's intelligence and competence, except Merlin's mind immediately went to them doing it again and again and he half-thought he might die before the curse killed him.

From the way Arthur groaned and planted his face in Merlin's chest, he must have thought the same thing.

Arthur approached his breasts like they were some rare, fragile gift he was afraid to break, touching and petting them so lightly it was almost enough to make Merlin want to grab his hands and press them down on the things just to feel it properly. Then he brushed his thumbs over Merlin's nipples and Merlin gasped and pressed his hips more tightly between his knees, and Arthur huffed out his amusement over the erect nubs, and began to tease them with his fingers as Merlin gripped at the bedsheets to keep from grabbing at Arthur. When he finally lowered his head to suckle at Merlin's breast, Merlin simply squeezed his eyes shut and ignored any embarrassing sounds that might be coming out from his mouth.

It was an eternity before Arthur moved on from Merlin's tenderly aching, abused nipples and dipped two fingers into the wetness between his legs, and Merlin froze and opened his eyes wide, expecting a repeat of the painful shock of before, only to find a shock of a different nature rippling through him inside.

Arthur held his fingers inside Merlin for several long breaths, studying him as his body clenched and relaxed desperately around his fingers, then, grimacing as though he thought it an unpleasant duty, he bent down and touched his tongue to the slick cleft.

Whatever Arthur felt about it, Merlin found he couldn't bring himself to care too much as once Arthur got started, he applied the same determination to exploring everything Merlin had with his tongue as he did to training with his knights, and Merlin was only distantly aware that Arthur was pinning his lower body down with all his considerable strength so he could continue to run his tongue over and into all the parts that Merlin never had before and some he did, with rather terrifying relish.

He came with a humiliatingly high shriek, and thought they would be done, but Arthur only paused long enough to check on him with a mad, self-satisfied grin and then dropped his head back down and _continued_. How long he kept at it Merlin had no idea, only that Merlin was a shivering, gibbering, boneless mess when he finally stopped and sat up.

"Now how was _that_ ," Arthur crowed triumphantly, and Merlin couldn't make any response besides whimpering.

Arthur sobered as he slowly rallied his wits and moved up slowly to lie down beside Merlin, and Merlin grabbed his upper arm and squeezed. They met halfway, Merlin moving downwards as Arthur moved up, and Merlin collected as much moisture in his mouth again as he could before sliding his lips over Arthur's prick, pulling back wetly and lying back again.

This time, Arthur slipped into him as easily and sweetly as though they were meant to be together this way.

He had no impression of losing consciousness at any point, but he opened his eyes and Arthur's body was spooned around him, warm against his back, and Arthur was softly stroking his short hair where it curled around his temple and ears. When he blinked and tried to wipe his palm over his eyes, the arm his head was resting on curved up and across his shoulders, pulling him to press tightly against Arthur's chest.

"Arthur?" he asked softly, feeling Arthur's heart beating at his back, slightly out of time with his own. The hand that had been playing with his hair brushed his cheek once more, then cupped his ear.

Arthur bent his head to touch his lips to Merlin's ear. "Just one more thing," he said, his warm breath tickling Merlin and sending a light thrill down his body. Merlin trembled, and tried to remember what had been on the parchment.

Arthur must have cleaned him up some after he'd passed out, or he was sure he'd feel a lot stickier and more uncomfortable, he thought as Arthur's callused hands moved to cup and play with his cursed breasts, and he became aware that Arthur's stiff prick was rubbing between his buttocks below. This position was something he was familiar with, from both sides, just not in a woman's body. "Arthur?" he asked again, wishing he could see Arthur's face.

"It's all right," Arthur murmured into his neck just below his ear. "We're nearly finished. It'll be over soon."

Of course. Arthur was only helping him to lift the curse. He should be grateful to have got that much. Still, he reached back and clutched at the back of Arthur's thigh, pulling him closer. Arthur grunted, pulling away slightly and removing one of his hands from Merlin's breasts to fumble somewhere behind them, and then the other hand moved down to hold his waist harder than Merlin thought he needed to, until the other hand returned, and oil-slicked fingers pushed into his arse, making him exhale in pained surprise. Arthur stopped.

"Slower," he managed, and Arthur moved again, returning with more oil.

He felt tired. He closed his eyes while Arthur carefully worked him open, and held on to Arthur's arm across his waist, stroking the tense muscles there while Arthur held him open and pushed in, inch, by inch, until he was fully seated. This too, was familiar. The last time he'd done it was before he came to Camelot. He hadn't expected to lose Will then. Would he lose Arthur too?

Arthur's free hand, still slick with oil, came around to his front and rubbed lightly over his stomach. Merlin licked his lips, and moved, pushing back into and clenching his muscles around Arthur. Arthur made a hurt sound, pulling back, then shoved forward and began slamming into Merlin, clutching at him even when pulling back prior to thrusting into him again, as if afraid to lose his hold on Merlin.

Something sparked behind his eyes, a white flash of heat and firing nerves, and he let out a groan as Arthur's hands fumbled at his front, and closed around his, his-- Merlin opened his eyes and came with a shout at the sight of Arthur's hand around his prick.

Arthur hung on to him through the shuddering aftershocks of his orgasm, then, as his eyelids were starting to droop, began to move inside him again. Merlin forced his eyes open and couldn't find the strength to turn around and ask him what he was doing, only managing to make his fingers flutter over Arthur's hands and forearms still pressed determinedly over his belly and sliding over his softening, too-sensitive prick. He whimpered, overwhelmed, and let himself pass from consciousness with Arthur still moving inside him.

The next time Merlin opened his eyes, he was alone in bed and the curtains were drawn around the bed. He felt tired and too warm, but there was a cool damp cloth on his forehead.

He put a hand on the cloth to hold it in place while he turned on his elbow and slowly levered himself into a sitting position, taking stock of his body. Everything was back to normal, save for a few aches and pains and a strange, lingering soreness that extended between his gut to his crotch. His magic felt quiet, as tired and aching as the rest of him. He chose not to give any of it too much thought and instead wondered where Arthur had gone and why the drawn curtains.

On cue, the curtain was drawn aside and Arthur, fully dressed, poked his head in. "Oh, you're awake," he said, and knelt on the bed, taking the cloth from Merlin's head and wiping Merlin's face with it. "Lie back down, you're still a little warm. Do you want to get dressed before Gaius comes in to see you?"

He wasn't sure he wanted to see Gaius yet, not until he had time to sort out the things Gaius had withheld from him - the magic, and the preventative, and who knows what else. He grabbed at Arthur's hands. "Clothes," he said. "Can't I talk to Gaius later, when I go back?"

Arthur was silent for a moment. "You want to go back already?"

"Do you want me to go?"

Arthur took the cloth away, laid his cool hand on Merlin's neck. Merlin shivered. "You should lie down and rest. You've still got a fever."

"I feel fine," he insisted. "I'm just tired."

"Then rest," Arthur said.

"Can I have my clothes?" When Arthur got up and ducked out from the bed he added, "The bed is on the floor. Gaius will have trouble getting down and up again. I can see him later. When I go back to my room."

Arthur didn't answer until he came back under the canopy with Merlin's sad little bundle. "You were unconscious for nearly a full day. We're all worried about you."

Merlin gratefully squirmed into his shirt, and hesitated over the breeches for a moment before he pulled off the blanket over his legs and started pulling them on, feeling Arthur's eyes on him all the while.

"Do you want something to eat? I had some oat porridge with milk and fruit brought up. Don't get up, I'll bring it to you." He ducked out again.

Oh. That was probably why the curtains were drawn. Arthur had probably had someone come to clean up the wreck of his room, and bring food and water for drinking and washing. He wondered how Arthur had explained all the furniture.

Arthur came back with a bowl, and stood holding it for a moment looking at Merlin in a way that made Merlin wonder if he was going to try to feed it to him before relinquishing the warm bowl and spoon into his hands.

The porridge was warm and sweet and very good, rich with milk and chunks of dried fruit. Merlin finished it and scraped the bowl clean, then Arthur went and brought the whole pot over and slopped out some more into his bowl. While he ate, Arthur drew back the curtains and Merlin looked about the room, taking in the new furniture and the angle of the sunlight coming in the windows.

It looked like almost the same time of day that he'd come to Arthur's room, so Arthur had not been lying when he said Merlin had been out for a day.

He finished his second bowl of porridge and set it down, feeling much better and less feverish than he'd been when he woke. "Thank you," he said to Arthur, meaning it just for the porridge, but somehow they exchanged a _look_ , and it became _Thank you for fucking me free of my curse!_ and they ended up both red-faced and unable to meet each others' eyes.

"I really feel much better now," Merlin said, "I should..."

"I wanted to ask you a favour," Arthur said at the same time, and they both tapered off and waited for the other to finish. "Well?" he asked, imperiously.

"Never mind, you go ahead first." Arthur looked him up and down, measuring, and he blushed hotter.

Arthur inhaled deeply, and looked him directly in the eye. "I want to try that last thing we did. The other way round."

Merlin thought back, confused, then Arthur's words fell into place and his eyes widened. "What?"

"Of course you don't need to decide now," Arthur turned back to the new table and added quickly, after Merlin had stared at him open-mouthed for a moment. "Lots of time to think about it, after you're better and all."

"You want to-- do that with me?" After everything they'd already gone through, Merlin would have expected Arthur to run out and find someone who wasn't going to break the bed, or make the furniture grow, and he didn't set anything on fire, but that last, Merlin felt, was possibly only a matter of time. He still felt a little on edge, as if he might start throwing off sparks if provoked.

"Obviously, or I wouldn't be asking." Arthur drummed his fingers nervously on the table once and stopped himself immediately. "I'm assuming you don't normally break everything in the room when you sleep with someone, or we'd have noticed your bedroom exploits a lot earlier."

His ears were burning at the idea of leaving a trail of destruction every time he shagged someone. "I don't run around-- it was just with Will, before I came here."

Arthur relaxed slightly, glancing side-long at him. "The houses in Ealdor would look a lot newer, then."

Merlin tried out a weak smile. "You're right, I don't normally... break things."

"So, do you want to?" Arthur asked, clearly forgetting that he'd told Merlin he could take his time deciding. Merlin decided to take him for his word before he could change his mind.

"Sure, yes. And you can do it to me again when I'm not half-dead to the world. Not half-asleep, I mean," he rephrased, seeing Arthur grimace at Merlin's choice of words. "We'll see how that works out, when I'm feeling better. I feel like I might make something happen by accident right now, and you're not even touching me."

"Good." Arthur nodded briskly. "Can I send for Gaius to check on you now. He's already checked on you after we finished, but he said he wanted to see you again after you wake up."

Merlin straightened slowly, feeling out the changes in length of limbs and balance again, and slowly swung his legs out of the bed to the too-close floor. He felt steadier and steadier with every completed motion, and held out his hand for Arthur to take. "Help me up. I want to meet Gaius in the physician's rooms if I can, not here."

Arthur looked sceptical, but bent down and pulled Merlin's arm over his shoulder, and carefully hoisted him to his feet.

Merlin swayed for a moment, leaning on Arthur, then found his footing and managed to stand on his own again.

Gwen was outside with a bundle of sticks in her arms, with green shoots sticking out from under the old blanket covering them. "That's the last lot," she said without looking when the door opened, then, "Oh! Merlin!" when she saw him, dropping the bundle and rushing to hug him.

She embraced him fiercely and muttered a stream of glad babble which he still felt too confused to make out except for the relieved tones, while Arthur stood awkwardly by watching.

Then she stepped back and gathered up the fallen green sticks, and gravely squeezed Arthur's hand, eyes bright and wet, and was gone.

They watched her go in silence, then Arthur cleared his throat. "Let's go, then."

When they reached Gaius's rooms, faster than Merlin had anticipated, Merlin stopped Arthur at the door. "Can I speak privately with Gaius? I'm coming back to your room as soon as I finish and grab some things I will need.

"Still more secrets?" asked Arthur dourly. "What could be worse than the one that involves chopping off heads and burnings in the public square?"

"One last one, Arthur. Then I'll come back and answer anything you want."

Arthur regarded him with a look of wary affection, like he still expected Merlin to turn around and bite him, then turned and walked back the way he came. Merlin sighed silently, and knocked at the door.

It felt like an eternity while he stood and waited for an answer, wondering what he should say to Gaius. Then the old man's voice floated out to him. "Come in." Merlin steeled himself and entered, closing the door behind him.

Gaius was standing over the pile of books Merlin had pulled out to study while he was still hoping for a magical solution. He looked tired and distracted. "What is it?" he asked without looking up.

"I'm back," Merlin said. Gaius raised his head then, staring at him. It was unnerving, the silent scrutiny as Gaius took him in.

"Good." Gaius gave a short nod, and turned back to the books.

Merlin looked down at himself, marvelling again at how strange it seemed after less than a week in female shape. "I don't know. Is it?"

Gaius looked back at him, then. "What do you mean by that?"

"The preventative. If all that was needed to change me back was to let someone fuck me, why did I need to take it?" He folded his hands together when he realised they were shaking. "And Arthur told me-- why didn't you tell me my eyes were glowing? I was barely managing to keep my magic under control, if I went out and something happened, anyone who saw might put the facts together and figure it out. Arthur did." Gaius drew in a sharp breath at that, but he ploughed on, determined to have his say. "I could ask what all these things you were withholding from me meant, and what else you didn't tell me."

"Arthur knows, then?" Gaius looked unsurprised, only weighed down by the confirmation. "One less thing to worry about. You should still be careful, even so."

"I don't know how you expected me to hide it when I was wrecking my room in my sleep nightly. Gwen must know something too, she didn't say anything about my eyes when I met her in the hallway, and she helped Arthur clean up the mess I made of his room."

"It was a risk, letting him find out like this," Gaius said, "but you couldn't have picked a better time for it, with your life at risk because you had jumped in to take his place." He picked up a book and slammed it down on the table. "I could ask you to not throw yourself in harm's way so thoughtlessly, like your life means nothing to anyone and it wouldn't matter if you _died_. Because it does!"

Merlin swallowed as Gaius almost shouted the last, then staggered to a chair and sat down heavily, trembling with emotion. "And the preventative?"

Gaius fixed him with a long, hard look that made him shift uncomfortably, deeply conscious of every mark that Arthur had left on his body that had faded when he changed back, and the phantom remembered sensations of hands and mouth and everything else that drifted over him at every reminder. He wondered if Gaius had seen Arthur's list. "You should not have stepped in to take that spell for Arthur."

Merlin's mouth dried at the idea of putting Arthur through what he had been. Especially in light of what he had learnt -- that Arthur had not yet gone all the way with anyone. "Why?"

"If it had hit Arthur," Gaius said. "If it had hit anyone but you."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a variant on a fertility spell Nimueh had worked on and we discarded as useless. With anyone else, it would have done no harm as long as they didn't get themselves with child. It would have been troublesome and embarrassing for Arthur, but if he chose not to take the sorcerer's claim about the curse to heart, he would be fine. Death would have come only if he conceived and bore a child, to keep the balance." Gaius remained in the chair, watching Merlin's reactions closely.

Merlin felt a little short of breath and stumbled to the bench, sat down. "What about me?"

"You. The sorcerer killed himself to change you, and you nearly killed yourself trying to change back."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

The old man sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "You were determined to find a magical solution. I was certain you wouldn't consider the obvious solution of completing the spell to end it, and once the week passed without harm, you'd stop worrying about it. I didn't expect your magic to start trying to reverse the change forcibly."

"Oh." Merlin looked down at himself again.

"Nothing is ever simple with you," Gaius said. "I was afraid-- well, you are properly restored now, at any rate."

"I suppose so," Merlin said, looking down at his hands. "Nimueh came up with this spell?"

"We explored a great many possible paths trying to get around the requirement for trading a life to gain Uther his heir." Gaius started stacking up the books, preparatory to putting them away. "It's strange though... This isn't the kind of spell a simple hedge wizard would have access to. Only those few of us who were involved in trying to allow the Queen to conceive would even know such a thing was possible."

Merlin put his head down, resting his temple against the cool wood of the table. He felt like closing his eyes. "Gwen said that the sorcerer knew his daughter had run away to be with that man. He should have dealt with them right away instead of waiting and then coming after Arthur afterwards."

"I wouldn't question what a grieving father takes it into his head to do. The man was hardly rational at the end." Gaius shook his head at Merlin. "Are you going to help me put these books back?"

Merlin sighed. "All right." He closed his eyes, thinking all the books back into their rightful places, then opened his eyes again, dropping several books as he did, when Gaius swatted his head. "Ow!"

"You're still too careless with your magic. The more people know, the more you should be wary."

"I know. I just." Merlin sat up. "I came back to pick up some things from my room. I'm going back to Arthur. We've still got some things to settle between us."

Gaius looked at him steadily. "What will you tell him?"

"I don't know. It depends on what he asks. I think we've had enough of lies."

"All right." Gaius nodded, rising to his feet as Merlin did. Merlin stepped forward and embraced him, and Gaius hugged him, quick and hard. "Be careful."

Merlin patted his back. "I think everyone has been careful enough for me." Gaius thumped him. "Fine, fine. I'll just get what I need and go back to talk to Arthur, and we'll see what happens." They stepped back from each other, a little uncertainly, and Merlin hurried to his room while Gaius discreetly rubbed at his eyes.

In his room, he gathered up a few more items of clothing and wrapped his spellbook inside, then looked around at the rest of his meagre possessions. It wasn't like he was planning to move into Arthur's room, quite, just that it felt like they were both looking for an excuse to extend their time together, and it was something to think about. On a sudden impulse, he gathered up his carved wooden dragon and tucked it safely in with his spellbook. That would give them plenty of material to talk about, if they got around to it. Starting with the one who had first told him his destiny lay with Arthur...


	2. Tails: Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The curse hits Arthur.

The magic that gathered as the sorcerer chanted felt like nothing Merlin had ever sensed before, and he hesitated - for one critical instant - instead of simply hurling himself at Arthur as was his usual instinct (to the despair of Gaius and profound irritation on Arthur's part), and they were just that instant too slow to get out of the way. Light and heat washed over them as they fell to the ground together.

Knights rushed forward and seized hold of the sorcerer, who had crumpled in on himself half-crying and half-laughing.

"My revenge," he shrieked, more shrill hysteria than righteous anger in his tones, "My revenge is that you shall lose your son, in every possible way. You will know what it is to have your child dishonoured and used by bounty-hunting filth, with no recourse, nothing but the stake to look forward to, because she had the misfortune to be born with magic!" The sorcerer finished his tirade with blood-spotted froth on his lips, and spat red at the feet of the knights restraining him.

King Uther stepped forward and seized the raving man by the neck. "Whatever happened to your daughter she deserved for using witchcraft. Now tell me what you have done to my son!" He'd barely spared a glance at the crumpled heap that was Arthur and his manservant, who had managed to get (or keep, he wasn't sure which) his eyes open but not managed to convince himself to move.

The sorcerer laughed in the King's face, spraying him with bloody spittle. "Your daughter will learn, she will learn so many things. If she wants to become a man again she will do it all. If she would rather preserve her honour, she will die within the week, because it is against nature to be pressed into another shape in this way."

"You're insane," snarled the King, shoving him away with such force the knights nearly lost their grip on the sorcerer. But it didn't matter anyway. The man coughed up more blood and crumpled on himself. Then he stopped breathing.

Arthur sat up. Merlin, still somewhat stunned, flailed a little and slid down into Arthur's lap. They stared at each other, wide-eyed.

"Get your elbow off my crotch," Arthur ground out harshly, and Merlin froze.

"I'm not on your crotch," he started to protest, still trying to gather his wits from having the breath knocked out of him by the fall and thinking if he had been lying on Arthur's crotch he'd _know_. And then he looked down and realised that. Yeah. He was lying on Arthur's crotch, and there was _nothing there_. "I, uh, erm. I. Sorry?"

Arthur shoved him off and scrambled to his feet. "You were too slow as usual. You're useless. I don't know why I keep you around." His voice was pitched just a shade higher than usual, and it had taken on a decidedly petulant tone. Merlin sat up and stared up at Arthur, gawping helplessly.

King Uther's furious glare took in the shocked assembly and dismissed them all. "Burn the sorcerer's carcass. He will not escape the pyre by dying. Gaius, check the sorcerer's effects and consult Geoffrey for any information on how to reverse the spell. You two," he began as he took in Arthur and Merlin, his angry stare settling on Merlin as though he considered Merlin the sole cause of Arthur's... state, and Arthur grabbed Merlin by the arm and yanked him to his feet.

"I feel unwell," Arthur said in clipped tones, his eyes daring anyone to call him on the clear lie. "I will go to my rooms and Merlin will assist me. Merlin!"

Merlin could not escape the sense of Uther's baleful glare on his back as Arthur dragged him from the court.

All the way back to Arthur's rooms, Merlin did his best to keep from tripping over his feet and crashing into Arthur's back as he stumbled along after Arthur, because Arthur had chosen to grab precisely the wrong arm if he really wanted someone to hold on to for his march from the throne room. He dismissed the first few guards who attempted to escort him on the way, but despite the fact he'd kept his hair, clothes, attitude and even most of his height, he caused double takes in everyone he passed.

Merlin was most definitely not watching the subtle sway Arthur's changed body gave his walk, especially when Arthur caught him glancing down, went thin-lipped and stiff for several strides, then began swaying _deliberately_. That was wrong on so many levels that Merlin fixed his eyes on the back of Arthur's head all the rest of the way and wondered how exactly Arthur planned to kill him once in the privacy of his own rooms.

He was doomed, so doomed, if both Uther and Arthur were blaming him for failing to intercept the spell and become a woman in Arthur's stead. If only the sorcerer had directed his rage where it belonged and gone after Uther instead; the man never expected anyone to die for him without orders and everyone would be much happier, except for.

Um. Except for whichever poor sod he would command to, well, lift the curse on him. Whom he would probably have beheaded afterwards. Possibly both heads. It was a tremendously encouraging thought to have in his head when Arthur shoved him in and slammed the door behind them.

Right. Arthur's curse.

Arthur's curse! Merlin, without any shame or sense of irony, shrieked like a girl internally, and squeaked like a mouse externally as Arthur pushed him down on a chair and grinned at him in a way that reminded him terribly of the time Arthur made him eat rat soup.

Arthur was taking all this, the curse, the girlhood, the possibly impending death, exceptionally well, which could only mean he was planning to take out all his many feelings on Merlin. Maybe he was planning to set up personal stocks in his rooms and keep Merlin there to throw things at, or send for armour and weapons to beat on Merlin with, or just... stand over Merlin and touch his face?

"Arthur?" he asked anxiously, only barely holding himself back from waving his arms in surprise and hitting Arthur thereby.

Arthur beamed down at him with what someone who didn't know him as Merlin did might call a fond look. He was disquietingly attractive as an Amazon princess in drag, and did Merlin just think that? _Doomed_.

"Merlin," Arthur purred, familiar and strange and tingle-causing at the same time. "If the sorcerer was telling the truth about the curse, you're going to have to take responsibility for lifting it, you know."

Merlin thought about it and felt all his blood trying to rush in opposite directions at once, and nearly passed out. He managed a dignified sort of whimper and wondered if he was going to be executed before or after the curse-lifting business, and Arthur snorted a laugh at him, grabbing him by the neck and knuckling the top of his head, because evidently Merlin had said that aloud and noogies were Arthur's preferred method of communicating reassurance and affection or something.

"Maybe Gaius will find some way to lift the curse scientifically, or something," Merlin babbled desperately, trying to think of ways to get Arthur back without getting sent down to the block to be relieved of his head, by Uther if not Arthur himself. Arthur made a strange, unreadable but pretty face and smacked his head, clearly annoyed and impatient.

"I am beginning to suspect you genuinely are suffering from a serious mental affliction," Arthur drawled, the familiar, superior tone no less irritating when he had a very full and deep cleavage that was currently planted right in Merlin's face; deliberately, if the _smouldering_ look Arthur was shooting him was anything to go by. When had he unlaced his shirt? Arthur had never shown any particular inclination to dress and undress himself before. And then there was all this leaning over Merlin and breathing deeply at him. There was something very obviously wrong here. And not just the fact that Arthur was currently woman-shaped.

"I might be hallucinating," Merlin suggested helpfully. "Very terrible and dangerous problem, that. I should go see Gaius about it," he said in his steadiest, most responsible voice, and hopped to his feet to do so immediately, ducking under Arthur's arm.

But before he could run past Arthur, who had gone in an instant from smouldering to glowering, he was plucked from the air by the back of his shirt, swung around and dropped so heavily on Arthur's bed that he _bounced_.

Merlin found himself idly wondering if he was maybe in fact hallucinating or maybe trapped in an enchanted nightmare of some sort as Arthur plopped down on the bed in front of him, deeply affronted and bosomy and he was never going to be able to look Arthur in the eye again, especially if Arthur kept sticking the swell of his creamy bosom at his eye-level like this. "What is wrong with you?" Arthur was demanding, eyes bright and a rosy flush beginning to climb to his cheeks as his temper rose. "Here you have a golden opportunity to _take advantage of me_ , and you are trying to weasel out of it?"

Merlin goggled at him, stunned into silence. Arthur clambered fully onto the bed, kicking off his boots with a fierce scowl twisting his pretty (pretty!) face, and glared at him. He grabbed a pillow and clutched it to his chest, not sure if he was going to hit Arthur or cover his own head with it until everything stopped being _crazy_.

"Oh, stop that, you look like a terrified maiden about to be ravaged," Arthur grumbled and snatched the pillow from him, leaving Merlin with his hands raised helplessly in the air like, well. Merlin quickly put his hands down and sat on them, cheeks burning. "Come on. Let's start with something easy. A hug?" Arthur spread his arms wide and quirked an eyebrow suggestively. Merlin shook his head a little desperately.

"We really should wait and see what Gaius says," he bleated, subtly edging backwards. Not subtly enough, because Arthur was edging forward with him, on his knees, which action was making his new body sway alarmingly once again. Merlin was beginning to have a little trouble catching his breath. "Seriously, I mean, there could be all sorts of things we need to do," he said, and mentally slapped himself when he realised what he had done - practically agreed that he would be participating in... curse-lifting activities with Arthur, really?

Arthur had noticed too, and was beaming like a nut. "Fine, fine, we'll wait and see what Gaius wants us to do," he said, punching Merlin on the arm. "You had me worried for a bit there, I thought maybe I wasn't pretty enough or something. I am pretty, right?"

So saying, Arthur slid off the bed and swayed to the mirror to examine himself. Merlin wondered if he should tell Arthur the exaggerated swaying was getting a bit much and he really was much more attractive when he was striding around properly like his old self. And then Merlin's mind caught on to the implications of what he was thinking, and he kept his mouth clamped shut while Arthur studied his changed face and body in the mirror, hefting his new breasts and smoothing his hands critically over his flat belly and curving hips.

A young page came with a summons from the king to see him in the private audience chamber, and looked quite taken aback at seeing Merlin sitting in the prince's bed. Which was just great, because Merlin recognised the boy as the son of one of the most gossipy lords in the court, and the news that Arthur had his manservant in his bed (never mind that they hadn't done anything, not even take off their clothes [thank goodness]) would no doubt be all over Camelot by morning. Possibly before sunrise.

Arthur sighed the deep sigh of someone very much put upon and eyed him sharply. "Don't think you're getting out of this," he grumped, snatching up his boots and pulling them back on. "You're coming with me to see what Father wants." He stamped his feet, adjusting the fit, and grabbed Merlin by the arm again, as if afraid Merlin would try to run off.

Wonderful. He was going to lose his head, and not for being a sorcerer, or being insolent, or even plotting against the king's ward (who had to rubbing her hands in glee at the potential precedent if Uther didn't say anything about succession in the unlikely event Arthur stayed a girl and didn't die of it - not likely because Arthur clearly planned to lift the curse at the earliest opportunity). Any of those reasons would have been preferable to losing his head because he had been unjustly accused of despoiling the prince...cess. If anything, it looked like Arthur had every intention of despoiling _him_.

It had to be the curse affecting Arthur's mind, because surely Arthur had never shown any inclination to throw him on the bed and have his way with him before, being generally content to keep him scrambling about at his heels all day and tussling with anyone who wanted Merlin's attention, like Gwaine and probably Freya too, if she had lived. Merlin had all but resigned himself to the idea that his destiny was to spend his entire life running around saving Arthur and washing his socks, with no time for anything like a personal life of his own, because even if Arthur didn't want him, he didn't want anyone else to have him either. It was horrendously depressing, all said.

They arrived at the audience chamber much faster than Merlin would have liked -- even tripping over his feet and colliding with Arthur's back at every other step (because Arthur still liked to hold people exactly the wrong way around. He was a prat like that) -- would be better than stumbling into Arthur when Arthur stalked into the chamber and stopped in front of the frowning king.

Uther was glaring at Merlin as if he was already seeing in his mind the myriad ways Arthur was planning to despoil or be despoiled (Merlin had gathered that Arthur had Ideas), and planning to have Merlin beheaded pre-emptively. Arthur dragged him forward and dropped an arm heavily over his shoulders, challenge in every line of his attitude.

"You picked your manservant for this task?" The words dripped crushing disdain and disapproval, and also threats of beheading. Merlin tried to subtly shrug Arthur's arm off, and was pulled blatantly closer, flush against Arthur's warm, curving side. The king frowned even deeper. Gaius's eyebrows twitched, and attempted to stage an exit off his forehead altogether in protest.

"It seemed only practical," Arthur said with deceptive casualness. "Merlin's loyalty and discretion has been beyond reproach all this time, even when he was temporarily dismissed. And of course, he's too much of an idiot to have any expectations that this will change our relationship in any way."

Well. He was a little surprised that the words hurt so much. Possibly deep inside, he was secretly hoping that Arthur's enthusiasm for the whole curse-lifting business might mean something. Good to know.

Gaius was shaking his head slightly at Merlin, clearly having seen through his expression of wide-eyed stupidity to the hurt underneath.

The king was nodding slowly in agreement. "That seems reasonable enough. However..." 'his expression turned dangerous, "see to it that you give him no reason to have any expectations."

Merlin turned to look at Arthur then, and was tranfixed by the tension in the softened lines of his jaw.

"Of course, father."

King Uther's grim pronouncement was met with a tense silence that felt like an argument between Arthur and the king, even if no words were being exchanged. Arthur's firm arm over his shoulders reminded Merlin of being bolted in the stocks for some reason, and he could just about imagine Uther with a bushelful of potatoes or something equally hard and painful. Possibly rocks.

Gaius cleared his throat discreetly, breaking the tableau by drawing their attention to himself instead, for which Merlin was so grateful he could have kissed him. "If I may, sire, I would like to have a private word with Prince Arthur, regarding the conditions of the curse."

Uther looked as if he suspected conspiracies and would like to deny permission, but also did not really want to know, which Merlin could sympathise with. He swept a glare over all three of them -- Arthur, Merlin and Gaius -- once more, then finally nodded and left the room. Merlin felt his knees go a little weak from relief, but Arthur remained as stiff and hostile as before, or perhaps even more. One would have thought he considered Gaius as much of a threat to getting his way as Uther.

"Your highness," Gaius began as soon as the door closed behind Uther.

"What is it?" Arthur's arm slipped suddenly down to Merlin's waist and squeezed him even tighter, as though daring either of them to make something of it. For some reason, Merlin suspected that this was not the time to try to wriggle free again.

Gaius pursed his lips and chose not to comment as well. "I have examined what materials I could find in the sorcerer's possessions regarding the curse." He put on his reading glasses and took out a sheaf of papers, shuffling them a little. Merlin thought it was probably more to have something to do with his hands and to keep his eyes on than because he needed any help remembering, though Merlin hoped he would be able to detach himself from Arthur afterwards to have his own little private talk with Gaius. Gaius crushed his hopes immediately, however.

"First: I believe there is no means of breaking the curse without fulfilling the prescribed conditions as laid down by the magic." This said with a very pointed look at Merlin that warned him in no uncertain terms to refrain from trying to get away from Arthur to discuss the possibility with Gaius. Merlin nodded a very slight acknowledgment, feeling all kinds of confused conflict inside, like he couldn't decide if he was pleased or relieved or upset about the information.

"Second: It appears the spell is not tied to any particular man, so yes, you may choose who you want, if he agrees," said with such fierce emphasis that Merlin nearly blurted out that he was willing just to reassure Gaius, and felt his face and ears had to be on the verge of physically combusting from how hot they felt.

Arthur did not squeeze or move his hand again, but he did lean a little, pressing into Merlin's side, and Merlin found himself leaning back a little. Arthur accepted the reassurance for what it was, then straightened again, leaving just the warmth of his hand on Merlin's side. It felt sort of like their usual shoulder bumps, only slowed down, as though Merlin had drawn out a moment with magic.

An impossible, unexpected sense of connection filled him, and he smiled tentatively at Gaius, feeling at ease for the first time since the curse. Gaius stopped shuffling the papers and regarded them over the rims of his glasses thoughtfully.

"As for the details..." both of them stiffened at this, but Gaius continued unperturbed, "the spell seems to be tied in to the overall condition of the sorceress's person at the point when he was allowed to meet her the night before the execution, rather than a particular sequence of actions. I spoke with the wardens, but it seems they have little idea. I suggest you have the ones who turned her in brought in and questioned. Sire."

Arthus nodded, face serious. "Thank you, Gaius. I will do as you suggest."

Gaius exhaled, a long, slow breath that was not quite a sigh, studying Arthur with a look that was very familiar to Merlin, being much the same look he used to give Morgana when she came to him for help with her nightmares. That hadn't worked well, at all, and Merlin found himself tempted to shout, "Tell Arthur!" even if he had no idea himself what it was Gaius was withholding, but he kept quiet because, well, he had no idea what it was.

"I spoke with His Majesty earlier, and it was decided that for the duration of the curse's effect, it would be best if you took a daily tonic to ensure the stress of the change does not affect your health. I will send over the first dose as soon as I have prepared it. Make sure you take it promptly on receiving it."

"Of course," Arthur agreed readily, frowning a little at the severity of Gaius's tone, which signalled _poison_ , not tonic, to Merlin, except surely Gaius _wouldn't_. He wished he could slip away from Arthur for a few moments to ask Gaius what was going on, because he had given up on finding an alternative solution to the curse far too soon, and this matter of the tonic just seemed wrong, somehow.

Gaius simply nodded and excused himself without any further indication to Merlin. Arthur looked relieved, as if he'd expected worse, then shook his head and huffed a little laugh to himelf.

"So..." Merlin trailed off, expecting Arthur to elaborate on his plans.

"So now that my father and Gaius have been dealt with, let's get back to my rooms and see about lifting this curse. Come on, Merlin." Merlin suspected that despite their moment of concordance earlier, Arthur was still reluctant to let Merlin out of his sight, and hurried to follow him out of the audience room immediately, afraid that any delay would make Arthur decide he needed to drag Merlin about the castle some more.

Arthur accosted a maid carrying a basket of soiled laundry and sent her running with instructions to bring up a tray for the dinner they had missed in the excitement earlier and prepare him a bath as well.

"Will you require a maidservant to assist with your bath, sire?" asked the maid tremulously, casting quick glances at Merlin and blushing. Merlin thought about it, and felt faint.

"Of course not, I have Merlin for that," Arthur snapped with unthinking impatience, and the maid squeaked out a _yesmilord_ , curtsied and fled. Thus reminded, Arthur turned a little pink and glared at Merlin as though it were his fault, and grabbed him again.

Merlin allowed Arthur to tow him onwards without protest, all his mental faculties stuck on _Arthur_ and _bath_. Which, he very privately granted, was distracting enough under normal circumstances, but this was all kinds of new and distracting and mind-blowingly wrong, and he suspected that Arthur was noticing his distraction, and for some reason, in spite of his earlier insistence on shoving his new attributes in Merlin's face, was well and truly angry with Merlin for it now. There was no pleasing him sometimes.

The Prince, which Arthur was projecting with every fibre of his being, swept up a guard in his wake, rapping out sharp orders to have Sirs Leon and Bors report to him first thing in the morning and step up patrols about the city lest more sorcerous relations turn up to complicate matters even further.

Obviously overwhelmed by the sheer force of Arthur's Royal Pratitude, the guard bowed and peeled away to carry out his new orders the instant he was dismissed, and Merlin felt his heart begin to pick up its pace as they got ever closer to Arthur's rooms.

They arrived. Arthur slammed the door and Merlin against it, and clamped his mouth over Merlin's. Merlin's heart stopped.

The shock froze Merlin for a moment, then he did his best to kiss Arthur back, but it was mostly strange and uncomfortable and a bit painful, with noses everywhere and too many teeth. He thought, with an edge of hysteria, that this might be what a noogie felt like if Arthur used his mouth instead of his knuckles, and did it on Merlin's face instead of the top of his head. When Arthur grunted in irritation and pushed him harder against the door in a way that made Merlin think of headbutts, Merlin decided he had had enough, and placing one hand on Arthur's forehead and one on his chin, he pushed Arthur's face off his with a 'pop'.

Arthur shot him an accusing stare, with deeply buried undertones of hurt that he wasn't sure either of them was ready to address just yet. Instead, he tried to pet Arthur's face reassuringly and tipped his head forward and down until his forehead was resting against Arthur's. Being so close... it was just strange and off. Arthur was the wrong height, wrong shape. He even smelled different.

"You ordered dinner and a bath," he reminded Arthur quietly, wondering if he should try to fix Arthur's mussed hair and the still undone laces of his shirt. He didn't think there was anything that could be done about the swollen redness of Arthur's mouth that proclaimed to all what he had just been doing. And he quailed a little, realising that he must look much the same way, dishevelled and guilty.

Something of his anxious thoughts must have been communicated to Arthur, who grimaced and pulled back, glancing to the door behind Merlin. "You're a mess. Pull yourself together before they arrive." So saying, Arthur stalked away to stand by the window broodily, facing away from the door and leaving Merlin to hastily attempt to set himself to rights before anyone arrived. Of course he would leave Merlin to face the consequences and judging eyes of the other servants himself, the prat.

The timid knock at the door announced to Merlin's guilty mind that he needn't have bothered, since everyone knew very well what they were going to do anyway and evidently thought they might have already started. Which-- they had. "Come on in," he announced, yanking open the door and keeping himself behind it.

Efficient chaos invaded the room. Servants bustled in, setting the table with plates and a bowl of fruit, and then the tub was filled with hot water. They all took care to avoid looking at him or the prince directly, and Merlin was glad to avoid looking at them in turn, though it was clear that none of them could stop themselves from stealing glances anyway. Merlin felt his face flushing, and by the time the intruders had all gone, he was almost certain he looked like one of the squashy, overripe tomatoes that they saved to throw at him in the stocks, and was about ready to take himself out along with them, but for the distinct notion that Arthur would come after him and drag him back in full view of everyone.

Merlin closed the door behind the last of the servants and bolted it, embarrassed and just a shade light-headed with the thought that they were properly alone now, and he had locked himself inside with Arthur deliberately. "Everything is ready, Arthur. Do you want to eat first or wash first?"

For all that Arthur mocked him mercilessly on the practice field and when they were out hunting, Merlin was not entirely without a sense of self-preservation or completely unaware of his surroundings. He felt or heard Arthur coming up behind him, and taking a deep breath and a leap of faith, turned around and put his arms around Arthur, hugging him hard.

"Again with the hugs," Arthur muttered darkly, petting his back with obvious reluctance. "It's clear who the real girl here is."

Merlin resisted the urge to make a witty and inappropriate comeback, hanging on for dear life even as it occurred to him that _Arthur's breasts were pressing against his chest_. "Um," he managed to say, then Arthur sighed, reached down with both hands and gave his arse cheeks a firm squeeze. "Eep."

"There, we're even now. Better?" The warm hands on his arse guided him forward carefully so Arthur could push his leg between Merlin's to rub against him while at the same time rocking himself on Merlin's thigh. "Mmm."

On some level, Merlin was aware that instead of having the Very Necessary Talk with Arthur that he had meant to, he was being walked backwards to the bed, but that was also good because he wasn't sure he could stay steady on his feet much longer, what with all the rubbing and kneading. He forgot whatever it was he had wanted to say in favour of making garbled noises in between sighs of "Arthur" and "yes", until he tripped over the edge of a rug and nearly fell, only saved by Arthur's firm grip on his behind.

Rudely startled back into sobriety, Arthur grumbled, "You would be difficult, even in matters like this," but the affection in his tones was clear. "Clumsy oaf."Then he bent and scooped Merlin up in his arms with a grunt, and staggered while Merlin squawked in indignation and alarm. "My balance is off, but not by that much. Have you become heavier?"

"You mush-brain, you're smaller than you were, and when did you carry me before-- and why are you carrying me now?" Merlin demanded. "We must look ridiculous!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and heaved him up a little, readjusting his stance while Merlin clung on and thought desperate thoughts of keeping Arthur steady and not being dropped, which might or might not have had any effect, but was worth a try, in the interests of not falling on the hard floor. "It's not like you can carry me to my bed," the clearly insane prince(ss) huffed. "I wanted there to be carrying involved for this."

"For what," Merlin yelped, and found himself summarily dropped on Arthur's bed while Arthur groaned and stretched out the inevitable kinks in his back. "Were you expecting to be hit by a curse to turn you into a girl that could only be lifted by," he gulped and wisely shut up when Arthur levelled a sharp stare at him. Then Arthur was climbing up the bed and over him until they were nose to nose. Merlin went a little cross-eyed. And unexpectedly a lot aroused. He'd lost interest a little when he'd thought that Arthur had gone mad and was about to defenestrate him.

"No matter how I worked this out in my head, I couldn't think of any way to get you here without actually picking you up and carrying you myself." Arthur murmured. He had framed Merlin's head between his elbows and was resting on them while casually tangling his legs with Merlin's and slowly moving his lower body up, and down, making Merlin's breath catch unsteadily with every slide against his crotch. "I was expecting you to be a lot lighter, though. You're such a bag of bones."

Merlin brought his hands up to Arthur's sides, and hesitated when his hands slipped down the unfamiliar slope of his ribs down to his narrowed waist. Arthur growled and pressed down firmly, pinning Merlin's leg between his and grinding himself against Merlin's thigh. "You contrary, insubordinate fool," he grunted out, bending his head to nip at Merlin's neck, just above his scarf.

"I, um-- I just, Arthur, I don't--" Merlin stuttered, tightening his grip on Arthur's waist while Arthur groaned into his neck. Arthur shifted to rest on one elbow only, moving his freed hand down to press down on Merlin's achingly hard prick, effectively shutting him up.

He finished himself off while Merlin was gasping out his release, and flopped down to rest on Merlin. Merlin thought about trying to continue their Very Necessary Talk or at least pushing Arthur off, then decided that Arthur wasn't that heavy and he wanted to sleep more than he wanted to talk anyway.

Merlin was, for some reason, wearing a ridiculously long, trailing dress and trying to chase Arthur through the woods with a brace of fat hares in one hand and Arthur's crossbow and quiver of quarrels in the other, but his sleeves and skirts were getting caught on every branch and root he passed, and Arthur was getting further and further ahead chasing an enormous boar that he was quite certain posed a mortal danger to Arthur in some way.

Then there were splashing sounds, and suddenly he realised that Arthur had chased the boar into the lake and the boar was actually a disguised Sidhe trying to trick Arthur into marriage again, but Merlin had fallen in a disgusting sticky puddle and couldn't get out because his dress was all tangled up in the undergrowth.

"Don't marry the pig, Arthur, it wants to kill you," Merlin cried out desperately, but Arthur only sneered at his foolish ideas and accused him of being jealous of the pig, and then one of the hares, which Arthur had caught in the lake and was dripping wet, turned out to be alive and rushed up to attack Merlin by throwing its wet body in his face. Merlin flailed wildly and fell on his back, but the cold, wet hare just stayed on his face refusing to move, as though it planned to smother him that way.

Merlin woke up tangled in the bedcovers, with a profoundly uncomfortable stickiness in his breeches, and a wet towel over his face.

Arthur had got up and washed in the tub, in spite of the cold water, and had changed into a soft, worn old nightshirt that Merlin normally considered too old to give to Arthur to wear but too nice to give or throw away.

Merlin shuddered and scrubbed his face with the towel to wipe away the strange dreams, trying not to stare at Arthur, who was wearing the nightshirt and nothing else while he rolled up slices of ham and cheese and stuffed them in his mouth. The shirt was a little large on his altered frame and hanging loosely half off his fair, softly rounded shoulder. Which Merlin was trying not to stare at.

"Go wash up before the water gets any colder," Arthur ordered lazily, not looking at him. "You can take one of my spare shirts to use, and I don't even want to know what you were dreaming about," he said, waving a slice of bread in Merlin's direction.

Merlin carefully untangled himself from the blankets and stumbled towards the bath, feeling the horrible stickiness in his breeches every step of the way. He stopped long enough to fumble up a faded blue shirt he thought Arthur might not mind him using, vacillated over taking breeches without being offered them, and more, while Arthur _was not wearing any_ , and decided to do without while Arthur was still in this touchy mood. Then he set down the shirt by the towels, glanced behind him to check that Arthur was busy with the food before hastily stripping off his clothes and slipped in after warming it just enough to not turn him into a plucked goose, but not so much that steam would rise up and betray him.

Aware that Arthur could come over and confuse him in all new ways at any instant, as he had been doing ever since the curse had befallen him, Merlin hurriedly scrubbed himself clean with his back to Arthur and feeling the prickle of eyes on his back.

Then all uncertainty vanished as Arthur's hand landed on his shoulder. ''Be thorough," Arthur murmured.

Merlin remained very still and silent as Arthur's hand slid down his shoulder to dip in the lukewarm water, stirring it idly with his finger. Yeah, that had been a bad idea. Why had he thought he would be able to get away with it with this changed Arthur as hands-on as he was?

"Arthur," he said, and stopped, too chilled and numb to think of some explanation, something to say - anything. He couldn't make himself turn to face Arthur.

"You're an idiot," Arthur murmured, still swirling the water about, "but you're my idiot." Then he was moving, stripping off the nightshirt in one smooth motion. Merlin caught an impression of smooth skin and curves, then he had climbed into the tub behind Merlin, making the water rise and spill over the edges of the tub. "You want to warm this up some more?"

Merlin swallowed and tried to focus. Accidentally making the water boil with both of them in it would be bad, terrible beyond the thinking of it, very, very bad. As would setting the screen and everything else in the room alight and burning down the castle around them.

Behind him, Arthur dunked himself briskly and began scrubbing himself, unconcerned about all the sloshing and slopping of overflowing water that Merlin would no doubt have to clean later.

He concentrated very hard on raising the temperature of the water bit by tiny bit, until it was comfortably hot just the way Arthur liked it, which was fractionally warmer than what he was used to himself. Arthur sighed in contentment and sank lower in the tub. Merlin raised his own washcloth again and resumed scrubbing himself, mind carefully blank.

While he tried not to wonder at Arthur's calm, knowing response to his magic, he recalled with an edge of hysteria about Arthur's earlier instruction to be thorough... how thorough did he mean, really? And all his senses were hyper-aware of Arthur's presence behind him. He sat frozen in self-conscious indecision for several long moments, then Arthur was grumbling again.

"Must I do everything myself?" was all the warning Merlin had before strong arms wrapped firmly around his middle and pulled him into Arthur's lap, pressing up against Arthur's... lush... curves. He squeaked. And then again, when Arthur's left hand wrapped around him. "Arthur!"

He felt the grin against his shoulder before Arthur bit him, and then could only pant mindlessly, trying to brace himself against the top edge of the tub with his forearms while Arthur pumped him in slow, maddening strokes, rhythm just a little bit off from perfect, brushing a rough thumb irregularly over the head, then slipping back to tease his balls instead.

Then he felt Arthur's other hand again, between the press of Arthur's body against his. Two blunt fingers slipped into the cleft of his arse to circle around the entrance there, and pushed in. "Oh," he said, distracted by the slight burn of the exploratory intrusion, struggled to think. "I thought-- wasn't I supposed to be doing things to you?"

Arthur huffed out a quiet, unhappy-sounding laugh, and pressed his fingers fully home. Merlin grunted in surprise. "That will come tomorrow, after Leon and Bors bring in our enterprising witch hunters and I have questioned them fully on just what they did to their sorceress. Tonight," he growled, and found something inside Merlin with his finger that made him almost white out for a moment, "tonight is just for me."

He picked up the pace then, working Merlin roughly both front and rear until Merlin spilled with a choked cry and slumped against the side of the tub.

Arthur allowed him to rest his head on his arms for what felt simultaneously like not enough time and too long to him before standing up in the tub with another almighty slosh of water. He put a hand on the back of Merlin's neck, which was strange and familiar at once, and made him shiver.

"Come on, up. You're going to turn into a prune in here. Out." Merlin rose, and Arthur's hand slid down his back as he stood, coming to rest on the small of his back.

Between the cramped confines of the tub and the keen awareness of Arthur waiting quietly behind him, it took something of a struggle and several near-slips before he managed to climb out, followed immediately by Arthur, which settled his anxious internal debate about whether he should try to help Arthur out of the tub. Of course Arthur didn't want help. The only use he had for his female body was to shove his breasts in Merlin's face at every opportunity.

Merlin turned to grab his towel and found himself a little transfixed by the sight of Arthur roughly drying himself off, as much for the similarities as for the differences. He was shorter, true, but only marginally, and while his broad torso had resolved itself into generous curves of breasts and hips, the firm lines of muscle that ran along his limbs and defined his chest and belly were the same.

He'd seen it all before, but never with the same charge of promise between them. It had always been empty covert glances, meaningless and hopeless.

When Arthur caught him watching, he visibly bit off his first reaction, probably to snap at Merlin for watching and general uselessness and idiocy, and instead dropped the towel and put his hands on his hips, accentuating the differences, breaking the spell and reminding Merlin that yes, it was only the curse that had brought on this tension between them and nothing had changed, really.

He dropped his eyes and turned away to dry himself off.

The instant he put away the towel though, almost before he started to reach for the shirt, Arthur had slapped Merlin's arse and clapped his hands on Merlin's shoulders, hurrying him back to the bed. "Leave it," he grumbled as Merlin flailed and tried to protest. "You're just going to take it off again when we get-- here." The bed hit the side of his leg while he was half-turned around to look at Arthur, and he folded, flopping down like a dead fish. Arthur climbed in after him, then grabbed and hoisted him fully onto the bed, then grinned down unpleasantly at him.

"Are you feeling all right?" Merlin asked, feeling a little like a small harmless creature being sighted down Arthur's crossbow. He found himself wondering if he should knock Arthur out and run down to check with Gaius if he had any idea what was going on. "The curse--"

"Never better," Arthur said grimly. Not in the least reassuring. His eyes were roving up and down Merlin's body like Merlin was an opponent on the battlefield. And not even one of the mock-practice things during which he chased Merlin around for his own amusement, or a real practice like he had with his knights, easy and confident and just that touch of smug showing-off. No, this was a real battle, and any moment now, he could be kicking Merlin's feet out from under him and stabbing him in the gut.

Merlin swallowed, mouth dry. "You're not acting yourself, Arthur. The curse, could it be affecting your mind?"

Arthur loomed over him, short blond hair standing up in damp, mussed spikes like an angry golden hedgehog had taken up residence on his head. He looked determined and ready to fight, which Merlin should not find so attractive under the circumstances, but really, Merlin was used to admiring Arthur's sharp focus in battle that Arthur's being naked and a woman and quite determined to despoil him thoroughly didn't affect- it did. It really did. Then Arthur spoke.

"What did the sorcerer say? If I am to be, hm, dishonoured and used, violated, at least I'm going to get something out of this."

"Something?" His lips were nearly brushing Arthur's; he found it distracting.

"You."

At some point, without his noticing it, Arthur had pinned his wrists over his head with one hand. Merlin tested his grip a little, and felt it ease as he shifted. If he pulled, Arthur would release him. He stilled.

So Arthur had been really, really much less accepting of the curse than he had let on. Merlin should have had some idea, he thought, but everything Arthur had done, was still doing, smacked of the quiet battles he constantly waged with his father over how much ground he should give and how far he could push for what he wanted, only this was against himself, and unlike with his conflicts with Uther, he was not confiding in Merlin.

What Arthur wanted, apparently, included Merlin, surprising as it seemed considering how the only thing he had in common with Gwen was his willingness to stand up to Arthur while believing in him. Or maybe Gwen had that in common with him. Who would know?

He swallowed and cast his eyes to the canopy of the bed while Arthur bent with a will to-- to explore, as though he thought he would never have the chance to do so again. Arthur's fingers, sword-callused even in his transformed body, teased the curling dark hairs on his chest while Arthur tasted his nipples thoughtfully, like they were strange and new things he had not encountered before.

Enough was enough. If Arthur was going to push for what he wanted, so should Merlin, especially since what he wanted had very much to do with Merlin.

"Arthur," he said, and Arthur stopped, looked up at him. "Can I touch you?"

Arthur's look of determined focus soured instantly. "Of course," he said, sitting up with a rather alarming and eye-catching bounce of his breasts that made Merlin wince. He grabbed both Merlin's hands, and planted them squarely on his breasts. "Here!"

Merlin blinked, and gaped, and felt his face heat for a beat before he snatched his hands back. "You're a-- a-- what do they say-- an absolute gob-block."

"Are you picking up nonsense phrases from the peasants again?" Arthur sneered, and put Merlin's hands back on his breasts. Merlin snatched his hands away again, then tucked them under his armpits to prevent Arthur getting at them yet again. "I already said you could touch them!"

"I said I wanted to touch you, not your ridiculous jiggling parts! Stop shoving them at me!" Merlin hissed, red-faced.

This declaration clearly confused and discomfited Arthur, who looked down at his breasts as though betrayed. "They're perfectly nice breasts! What's wrong with them?"

Merlin backed up all the way to the headboard, not trusting Arthur to not make another attempt. "I, I just don't like them, all right? They're, they're not--"

"Not what?" Arthur demanded, rising up with a dangerous hectic flush that was extending all the way down to his breasts and was frankly alarming Merlin with thoughts of what desperate means Arthur might employ to persuade him that he should like Arthur's breasts. "You like Gwen and Morgana, and these are at least as nice as theirs!"

"I like you, you dumb horse-apple," Merlin exploded, and then clapped his hands over his mouth. "They're-- they're not you," he mumbled through his hands.

As Arthur turned over his declaration of not-love for his breasts for sense, he began to smile. Merlin was definitely regretting his hasty words and trying to think of a way to un-say them. Arthur sidled up to him and purred. "So it's me you like, and not the breasts?"

"You've always said I was an idiot," Merlin said, resigned.

Arthur grinned and draped his arm over Merlin's shoulders again while Merlin slapped his palm over his eyes in frustration. "You said you wanted to touch me. So what did you want to touch? Go on, I'm waiting."

There wasn't any point to hiding it anymore. Merlin clapped his hands to Arthur's face, looking seriously into his eyes. Arthur swallowed. "Earlier, you said. You wanted to get something out of this curse. You said you wanted me. Think of something else. You always had me." He bent forward, and kissed Arthur.

In a world in which Arthur was less of a touchy and controlling prat, having his embarrassing confession of not-love for Arthur's breasts and liking for Arthur as, well, Arthur, out of the way would have made things go much more smoothly afterwards. That, obviously, was not this world. Merlin should have known better to expect anything like that.

"Oof," he said, when Arthur tried to rearrange their limbs and jammed an elbow in his ribs, and then they had a bad moment when he nearly got tipped over the edge of the bed.

When they managed to get all their familiar and unfamiliar parts sorted out to their satisfaction and Merlin thought they could settle into more pleasant explorations at last, Arthur decided to take offence at Merlin coming into contact with any part of him that could be construed as female. Which was pretty much all of him, down to his left knee, which Merlin had laid a hand on to steady himself while he tried to climb over Arthur to get closer to the middle of the bed before he fell off.

"What's that for?" Arthur demanded, glaring at the hand on the knee in question suspiciously. Merlin looked at the knee, took his hand back and held up both hands in surrender.

"To keep from falling off the bed?" Arthur gave him A Look of Great Significance. If only Merlin had any idea what it was supposed to signify. He was sure one of the knights would know, but he wasn't a knight and besides, Arthur had picked him, not a knight. "All right, I give up. Just tell me what you want to do."

"I haven't decided," Arthur said, ominously.

Merlin had a bad feeling about this. He wasn't wholly inexperienced or anything, but there was sex, and then there was the mysterious and probably kinky thing, or things, multiple, that Arthur had in mind and wouldn't explain. He sighed.

Arthur eyed him warily. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" he said, quickly and clearly unconvincingly, going by Arthur's expression.

"Spit it out, don't hem and haw about like a girl."

"Maybe we shouldn't do this." Arthur looked stricken, and he hurried on to explain. "That is, everything is so strange now, and you-- we're both uncomfortable, so maybe we should just wait to find out what we need to do, then we do it, and after you're cured..."

"No," Arthur said, decisively. "I won't have- the first time we do this won't be that."

"Oh." That was something Merlin had been trying not to think about. Whatever had got the old sorcerer so upset that he had come here and killed himself getting revenge for his daughter. "Right. I understand."

"Don't speak of it again. We'll get to it when we need to get to it." Merlin nodded quickly.

Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and tipped him over to lie on his back. "Just-- let me do this."

And then he went quiet and determined. First came the lingering touches in the safe, familiar places he had always handled Merlin -- his arms, shoulders, the back of his neck -- light, careful in a way he had never been, until it became all strange and new and a little intoxicating. Then, as he bent to brush his lips over Merlin's, Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur, pressing against the hard blades of his shoulders, and Arthur lowered himself to lie over Merlin, meeting fully all along the length of their bodies, chest to chest, hips to hips.

Arthur pushed down to trap Merlin's stiff length between his legs and against the soft mound of his changed sex, and slid wetly over it, making Merlin suck in his breath and clutch at Arthur, who grinned at him fiercely and sealed his mouth over Merlin's, slipping his tongue between Merlin's parted lips in return and slowly, maddeningly thrust in time with his hot glide up and down along Merlin's length.

Merlin didn't last long. Arthur growled and kept at it while he softened against him, whimpering, then he took Merlin's hand from his back and thrust it between his legs. "Don't make me do all the work here, you lazy git."

Merlin quickly figured out what worked best to make Arthur squeeze his eyes shut and grunt, "More, _faster_ ," and clutch desperately at him. It wasn't exactly like doing it with Will had been, but the idea was sort of the same, just that Arthur liked being touched in a quite different part from Will or Merlin himself; outside rather than inside his body, which probably had to do with the differences between men and women rather than an Arthur-quirk.

Arthur let out a strangled groan and nearly crushed his hand between his thighs, which made Merlin relieved he hadn't tried to use his mouth - _pop goes his head_ \- was his first, panicked, irreverent thought, because Arthur was _strong_ , followed by the distinct idea that Arthur was embarrassed and angry about it. Again.

"Hey," he said weakly, sitting up and feeling like he should wave hello or something, remind Arthur who he was doing this with. Arthur scowled at him and crawled up the bed to rummage in the bedside table, pulling out the bottle of massage oil he had Merlin rub on him after training sometimes. "You want a backrub?"

"No," Arthur said shortly, and advanced on him again. He obligingly allowed Arthur to push him onto his back again, felt another twinge of anxiety as Arthur pulled up his legs and settled between them.

Merlin felt his eyes going wide and round as Arthur hooked his legs over his still broad and muscular, but definitely feminine shoulders, and poured out some oil onto his hand. "What," he started, then let out a rather foolish, "oh," as Arthur pressed forward, pushing Merlin's lower body up, and started fucking Merlin with his hand.

He'd thought he was mostly done for the day, but apparently being slowly and steadily fucked by Arthur was really doing something for him, and he felt his flagged interest reviving, not quite to full-mast, just leaking in droplets while Arthur determinedly massaged him inside until his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.

Merlin woke gradually, feeling warm and strange and cuddled against... he kept his eyes shut and tried to take stock of his surroundings, and decided, yes, Arthur was spooning him, with a possessive arm over his waist and the other hand tucked slackly over his thighs next to his quiescent prick. Despite a faint prickle of interest at the feeling of the warm body flush against his, along with the memories of, yes, the growing morning light said it was the past night, Merlin decided that he needed to eat and piss a lot more than he wanted another round. He'd missed dinner the night before, after all.

He carefully eased himself from Arthur's embrace, thanking his lucky stars that Arthur was as heavy a sleeper as a woman as he had been a man, as long as he was in his own bed. He would probably wake grumpy too.

Merlin took in the mess they had made of the room, shuddered at the thought of calling in other servants to deal with it, then just relieved himself in the chamberpot, washed up and set everything in the room to cleaning themselves while he stuffed himself with the cold ham and cheese left over from their dinner.

"I knew there was something wrong with you," was Arthur's first muttered complaint when he woke, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes while rags sopped up the spilled water on the floor and squeezed themselves back into the tub, and the chamberpot bounced its way back through the garderobe, gleaming bright and clean and smelling suspiciously of lemon oil. "You hardly ever get assistance from the other servants, even when it's obviously necessary."

"Mm," Merlin said through a mouthful of cheese, trying to think of a diversion to the building bad temper, and swallowed quickly before continuing, "We should do that again," paused, "when you get your prick back," and victoriously watched Arthur choke and sputter.

"Put on something and tell someone to bring breakfast; I'm not going to eat last night's leftovers," Arthur grumbled when he recovered his composure, but with less annoyance in his tone, shrugging into a fresh shirt and looking in his wardrobe himself for breeches and a belt.  
Halfway down to the kitchen, he met Morgana where he normally ran into Gwen and chatted with her about the weather, town gossip, their respective charges, what Gaius had taken to cooking and anything else that came to mind while they went to collect breakfast together.

He stopped short and tried not to look around for Gwen. Before Morgause had taken Morgana away, Morgana had always woken early, but preferred to stay in her chambers to compose herself for the day. Gwen had been reluctant to speak of her and how she had changed since her return, but Merlin already knew more than he wanted to about Morgana's night-time travels to conspire with Morgause, though her morning habits were still a mystery to him. When did Morgana find time to sleep anyway, or didn't she need sleep anymore?

While he stood conflicted, uncertain if he should address her or not, Morgana looked him up and down and smiled, with an edge of hard, dark anger. She hadn't been present when Arthur was cursed, but she must have heard the news, and of course Morgana would recognise Arthur's clothes immediately.

"How is Arthur?" she asked without preamble. He couldn't prevent the blush from rising to his cheeks, and her smile turned sharper and gloating. "Or should I say how was Arthur? I heard so many things about the witch and the men who brought her in," she added, in insinuating tones.

This stung, and Merlin couldn't stop himself from answering. "Of all people, you should have felt for the witch most. How can you talk about what happened to her like that?"

"Why? Because I am a woman? Or because I have magic?" Morgana's pale eyes flashed with anger and threat, and Merlin half-braced himself for a blow or attack, but evidently she decided that striking him was beneath her, as she eased back slightly, lifting her chin with her usual cool hauteur. "I don't need to feel anything for her. I will never be in her position." She showed sharp white teeth. "Unlike Arthur."

"Arthur has never been anything but a friend to you," he tried, a little hopelessly.

"One who will stand by while Uther continues to order the death of innocents," she said, with no hint that the innocents she spoke of meant anything to her anymore. "One who will stand by while you murder me."

"He didn't know, Morgana," Merlin said.

"I don't care. Enjoy Arthur while you can." She smiled again, eyes bright with a delight at some secret knowledge that she couldn't or wouldn't hide as she swirled around and left with a flourish of long skirts, and Merlin wondered that she had specially come to meet him here to gloat. It seemed like more than simple amusement at Arthur's predicament would call for. Arthur would hate the humiliation, certainly, but he'd get over it soon enough given a tournament or so during which he could take out his anger on his opponents, and he had unlimited time to order Merlin about and abuse him until he felt he had had sufficient vengeance. _Enjoy Arthur while you can._

Merlin found his mind preoccupied by her choice of words while he collected Arthur's breakfast tray and found his way back to Arthur's rooms without further interruptions.

Absorbed in his musings, Merlin almost stumbled right into the middle of a conference between Arthur and his knights at the door to his chambers, stopping himself just in time before he intruded into their midst. He hung back at a polite distance, recognising Leon immediately, and taking a moment to recall the other knight's name. Right, Arthur had told the guard to summon Leon and Bors yesterday.

"Find them, don't tell them anything, throw them in the dungeons and leave them to cool their heels. No need to be too gentle either," Arthur was saying while Leon and Bors nodded.

"That won't be a problem; they're regular townspeople, not bounty hunters by profession." Bors said. "My cousin knows them, says they live just down the street from him. He'd never have thought they were, um," he broke off his thoughtful meandering as Leon cleared his throat forcefully. "Right. We will get on it immediately."

"I'll send word when we have them," Leon said, quiet and serious as ever.

"Good. You may go now," Arthur said, and then they all turned and noticed Merlin.

"Your, um, breakfast, sire?" Merlin stared down at the tray to avoid having to face the knights. Bors turned and muttered something to Arthur under his breath that earned him a hard thump in the back from the prince and a kick in the ankle from Leon, and then there was some awkward shuffling around as Merlin tried to get out of their way and they tried to circle around him.

Just before they finally got to the other side of Merlin, Bors leaned in and muttered, "Do right by His Highness, yeah? It's not easy--" in Merlin's ear and got a thwack on the back of the head from Leon, who got a fistful of his coat and dragged him off.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Good man. Just doesn't know when to stop talking, so don't pay him any mind. Get in here."

"Of course," Merlin nodded and found himself confusedly repeating the same shuffling dance with Arthur until Arthur finally thought to go in first so Merlin could pass, and then Arthur just stood at the door watching him uncomfortably. He decided the only solution was to pretend the encounter with the knights hadn't happened and set the tray on the table with a clatter.

"Breakfast!" he announced in his most obnoxious cheery voice, as if he had come to rouse a grumpy Arthur from his bed as usual.

"I'm already up, idiot," Arthur grumbled, sitting down and attacking the food immediately. "Water," he said as Merlin started to sit to join him, and Merlin shot him the evil eye and stood again to fill his flagon. Arthur took advantage of his bending over to pat his bum familiarly. "Pick out what you want and eat quickly. There are still some things I want to do today before Leon and Bors bring in those men for questioning."

That was not actually a thought to encourage either a good appetite or easy digestion. Merlin shot uneasy glances at an apparently blithe Arthur while picking at the unfairly good breakfast he didn't usually get to share so freely.

It was a good thing he'd already eaten some things left over from Arthur's dinner before going out and meeting Gaius, Morgana and then the knights. It felt a lot like everyone in the castle was watching and waiting for them to... do what needed to be done to change Arthur back into a man. All he needed now was for Uther to come in to check that he had not forgotten his place as a lowly servant, or Al the stableboy to shout something about stallions while he passed, and he would never be able to _perform_ again.

Arthur stabbed an apple, splitting it in half, and thrust one of the halves at him on the point of his dagger. "I can hear you thinking. Eat, or you won't be able to get it up when I need it." Merlin glared at him and took the apple half, biting viciously into it while imagining-- while blanking out his mind.

Despite his threat, Arthur didn't pounce on him and drag him to bed again immediately after breakfast. Instead, he wandered about the room, practiced forms with his sword, and flipped through a book idly (wonder of wonders) while Merlin polished his armour (magically) and cleaned his boots (unmagically) and scrubbed out the floor under the bed on his hands and knees while Arthur supervised. When Arthur directed him to sweep out the fireplace, Merlin decided he had had enough.

"Is this some kind of fetish? Do you like to see me dirty or what? Should I just go out and roll in the mud, sire?"

"I like to see you on your knees," Arthur corrected him with what looked a lot like fond amusement, watching him from his seat at the table. "I also like to see the faces you make when you're annoyed."

Merlin put down the scrubbing brush and stared at him aghast. "I pity whoever gets tricked into marrying you. What about the dirt?"

Arthur smiled at him. "Come over here and take off your shirt." Merlin fixed him with a look of dire suspicion and reluctantly approached. He sat down on the chair next to Arthur, and Arthur helped him pull off the dusty shirt. Then Arthur picked up a clean washcloth, dipped it in the unused basin of water for washing his face in the morning and began wiping Merlin's face.

Arthur took his time washing Merlin's face and hands with a firm, exacting touch while Merlin sat quietly and let him, bemused.

Then he got to Merlin's torso and the swipes with the washcloth became lighter, half-cursory and half-teasing, his thumbs and fingertips catching on Merlin's skin as often as not with each pass, making Merlin's pulse race and breath quicken, until he gave up all pretence of washing and caught the hard nub of Merlin's nipple between his thumb and forefinger and braced his other hand over Merlin's hipbone.

Merlin put his hands on Arthur's upper arms, that being the safest place he could think of. Arthur ignored his hands, seemingly enraptured by the nipple he was toying with.

Still staring at Merlin's chest, Arthur said, "So, do you know what to do with a woman?"

Merlin gave it a moment's thought. "Not really?"

" _Shit,_ " Arthur said with feeling. "So much for county boys and the benefits of a country education." He let his hands fall away from Merlin's body and stood up, pacing the room briskly. For half a dozen steps. Then he squared his shoulders and shed his clothes. "We'll figure something out."

"We what," sputtered Merlin. "What do you mean? Haven't you--"

"We are not talking about this," Arthur growled, kicking off his boots by the bed. "Get the rest of your kit off and come over here."

"Seriously?" Merlin said, stumbling a little on the way to the bed. He stopped beside Arthur and started to toe off his boots, struggled with it and sat down hard, then unbuckled and pulled them off properly. "I thought you--"

"Shut up," Arthur said again, tugging at the laces of his shirt with angry jerks, as he glared at Merlin, and then they broke with a snap. The shirt was too large anyway, and Arthur simply bent and pulled it over his head, re-emerging and straightening with mussed hair and a flush.

Merlin dropped his eyes to Arthur's breasts on instinct, and he hastily jerked his gaze back up to Arthur's face, blushing furiously and waiting for Arthur to lose his temper again.

Arthur sighed, looking down at his own chest. "They do stand out," he allowed tiredly. "I suppose I might as well try them out properly. It's not every man who gets a chance to do this." He clapped his own hands over his own breasts and jiggled them a little.

With that, Arthur shucked his breeches and climbed into bed, piling up the pillows at the head so he could lie back against them, and began exploring the soft rounds of his breasts and the dusky rose nipples crowning them with determined interest. He glanced up at the gawking Merlin and raised his eyebrows in challenge. "What are you waiting for? Get your clothes off."

"Right," Merlin said, and blushed harder as Arthur watched him undress with hot eyes while playing with his own breasts, unconsciously shifting to settle with his legs further apart. When he turned and bent to pull his breeches off, he saw out of the corner of his eye Arthur dropping a hand to the dark blond curls between his legs and feeling himself, seemingly without being aware of it, and he had to sit down on the bed, overcome with dizzy want by the sight.

"Come on," Arthur husked, parting his legs further with a sigh as his fingers sank into himself, and Merlin crawled up the bed to him, drawn irresistibly. He settled over Arthur and greeted him with a long, slow kiss until Arthur tilted his head back to allow Merlin access to his neck and pulling one of Merlin's hands to cover his breast.

Taking the cue,Merlin carefully felt it, the weight and curve of it and the hard nipple against his palm, and murmured, "Arthur," brokenly as he kissed his way down to the nipple, alternating rolling it between his fingers and thumb and sucking or licking. Arthur growled and pressed his head in place when he tried to leave it to attend to the other, and let his free hand enjoy shared duty with Arthur's hand in teasing the other nipple while he continued with the first. He rubbed himself slowly and pleasurably on the bed as he did, glad of the lingering soreness from the previous night that made his arousal a comfortable urgency rather than a desperate one.

At some point Arthur began to shove his hips against Merlin's belly, grumbling in vague dissatisfaction. Merlin pulled off his breast and moved downwards, ignoring Arthur's half-hearted grab at his head.

He dipped his fingers into Arthur's dripping entrance until it reached a sort of blockage, and felt the warm, wet passage constrict and flex around his fingers. Arthur fell silent, and he looked up to see Arthur watching him soberly. "Is this all right?"

Arthur nodded sharply, cleared his throat and nodded again, then said, "do it."

Merlin took a deep breath, gathering up some of the wetness with his hand and slicked himself up, then lost a little courage and bent down again to try his mouth on Arthur instead. Arthur made a sharp, surprised noise as he ran his tongue over the entrance experimentally, and he did it again slower, trying to figure out what had caused the reaction.

He started back as more wetness rushed out of Arthur in small spurts and Arthur nearly rammed his hips into Merlin's face, and decided it was time, quickly sliding up and pushing in.

Arthur let out a soft, broken sound.

Alarmed, Merlin raised himself on his elbows, preparing to pull out. Arthur suddenly wrapped his legs around Merlin and dragged him down, ramming him in. Merlin sucked in a shocked breath as Arthur grunted with pain.

"Arthur, wait," he got out, and pushed back a little, still half-buried in Arthur and bracing himself to keep Arthur from dragging him down again. "I don't think--"

Arthur put his arms around Merlin's back and pressed his face into Merlin's shoulder, silently shaking. Then he spoke. "All right. I know."

Merlin pushed his cheek against Arthur's, then touched his lips to Arthur's again, tentatively until Arthur stirred and caught his mouth in return. They kissed, and slowly, Merlin reached between them to search for the nub that had induced that strong pleasure response in Arthur before. He found it, and when Arthur seemed to be enjoying their intercourse again, slowly resumed moving inside Arthur.

He came inside Arthur, then eased off to lie beside Arthur and kept caressing him until he came as well, and then they lay together, silent by mutual unspoken accord, and waited.

A soft knock at the door. Merlin started awake and became aware that Arthur had curled himself into a ball and tucked himself into the curve of Merlin's body where they lay side by side, a warm, golden form pressed against him all along the length of his body from chin to knee, and a strong arm flung over Merlin's middle. He was also very, obviously, male.

The knock sounded again, and someone cleared their throat uncertainly. "Your Highness?" It was Sir Leon.

Arthur stirred and muttered something against Merlin's neck, arm squeezing Merlin tightly against him for a moment. Merlin cautiously put a hand on Arthur's shoulder and shook him gently. "Arthur, wake up. Sir Leon is at the door."

Arthur groaned, nuzzling at Merlin's collarbone, then rolled to flatten Merlin under him in a long, sleepy stretch before blinking awake and staring blankly at him.

"Hi," Merlin tried, feeling Arthur's morning wood pressed against his belly next to his own. Arthur narrowed his eyes and slowly rolled his hips, rubbing them together. Merlin hissed and grabbed at his sides. "Arthur!"

"Sire?" called Bors from the other side of the door. "We got the men you wanted."

Arthur raised himself on his elbows and reached down between their bodies to grasp them together, and Merlin whimpered faintly, clutching at him.

"Forget it," he called back to the knights in his normal voice. "You can release them."

There was a startled silence from the other side of the door, and then Bors _whooped_. "Go get him, Highness!" This was promptly followed by a loud 'thwack', presumably from Leon.

"Excuse us, sire," Leon said, and they tromped away very loudly, as if to ensure that Arthur knew they had left.

It didn't seem to matter to Arthur either way. He was still pumping his hand slowly up and down their joined lengths as Merlin bit his lip to keep from moaning out loud, watching Merlin's face with a soft, unreadable expression. When he picked up the pace, Merlin had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep quiet, not trusting the knights to have gone for real or half the castle to be waiting outside even if the knights weren't. Arthur caught his hand and pulled it from his mouth, lowering his face to cover Merlin's mouth with his own instead.

They came in quick, silent succession, panting quietly into each other's mouths, but Arthur kept pumping them, spreading the slick come over them both and smearing it further as they kept pushing their bodies together, until they finally slowed and stilled in exhaustion.

"You're back to normal," Merlin gasped, inanely, as Arthur rolled off to his side and traced patterns on Merlin's belly with their come, making the muscles there twitch.

"So I noticed," Arthur grinned, then turned serious again. "This was far too easy."

"Easy for you, maybe," Merlin grumbled. "Do you need to assert your manhood some more, now that you have the proof of it back? My bottom still hurts."

Arthur barked out a laugh at that. "Your poor, delicate little bottom. If you're feeling up to it, we can try out mine instead."

"Really?" Merlin blinked, thought about it, and felt a little faint.

"Really." Arthur went narrow-eyed and dangerous again. "Get me a wet towel. Don't get out of bed," he snapped and grabbed his arm with the hand that was not covered in come when Merlin groaned and started to roll away. "You have no faith in me. Why do you even like me?"

He summoned the requested towel and kept his eyes averted while Arthur mopped them up. "I don't know. Must be because I'm such a idiot, as you keep telling me. And sometimes you're not so bad, when you forget to be a prat."

"Mostly because you're shallow and I'm pretty, then," Arthur observed sagely. Merlin stared at him in wonder.

"You're in a rare mood today."

Arthur tugged at him until he was lying on top of Arthur, and tweaked his ear. "It's not every day that I get an idiotically illegal sorcerer declaring that he is mine, and then turn back into a man."

Merlin felt his cheeks warm at the memory of their painfully protracted and roundabout declaration, and kissed Arthur to distract him from it.

At some point, word must have leaked that Arthur's curse had been lifted. They hadn't had time to do much before Gaius came knocking on the door and they both fell out of bed and scrambled around getting dressed, before Merlin rushed to open the door so Gaius could come in to check that Arthur was fully restored to his normal self.

"No, I don't need to see for myself. I'll take your word for it," Gaius said, waving their stammered greetings away, and Arthur sagged in clear relief.

"Good!" Merlin got out, tugging at the hems of his shirt again in acute embarrassment, "and also, _Arthur knows_ ," he hissed meaningfully.

Gaius raised his eyebrow in a way that somehow conveyed polite disbelief, disappointment, disapproval, despair... all the stages needed to express "Merlin, you foolish boy, what have you done now?"

"He already knew," Merlin said defensively, crossing his arms.

"Actually, I only suspected. You confirmed it for me," Arthur said, the traitor.

Merlin turned his back on Arthur. "Gaius, we need to be careful," he said. "Morgana's up to something. I met her on the way down and she said a few strange things."

Arthur straightened alertly. "Morgana? What's this about?"

"She's in league with Morgause," Merlin said. "Has been since she came back. You have to be careful around her." Then he repeated what she had said to him about Arthur. Arthur was silent, taking in the revelation.

Gaius folded his hands with a thoughtful frown. "That explains something that was troubling me. The spell that was used on Arthur was not something most sorcerers would have access to. If Morgause was in on it, we know where he got the spell. He might also have been... _influenced_ in his decision to attack Arthur."

Both Arthur and Merlin leaned in, fascinated. Gaius continued. "Leon was telling me that the men had been living openly in the lower town with the sorceress, and he hadn't done anything about it, which makes the way he came forward in such a rage suspect."

"What about Morgana's warning?" Merlin pressed on. "She seemed very sure of herself."

"You don't need to worry about it," Gaius said dismissively. "She had in mind a known side-effect of the spell that I have already taken into account and dealt with." He fixed them both with knowing looks. "You should get ready to present yourself to your father. He's expecting to see you."

"Right." Arthur turned rather pale and appalled.

"I don't need to be there, do I?" asked Merlin a little desperately.

"No doubt my dear father will want to thank you for your services in person," Arthur grated out. "You're coming with me."

"Thank me by beheading me, you mean?"

"Planning to make an announcement of some sort, are we?"

Gaius shook his head at them. "As soon as you can, sire."

"Of course, Gaius. Thank you." Arthur inclined his head respectfully as Gaius let himself out.

"I'm most certainly not going to see your father in your clothes!"

"Are you going naked, then? No? Then get ready."

"You're impossible!"

"You're an idiot, but you don't see me complaining."

"You complain all the time!"

"And yet you still like me."

"... I'm an idiot."

"We're agreed, then? Good. Let's go."

**Author's Note:**

> Um, so this was written as a sort of thought exercise. The central conceit of the whole mess was that the circumstances, characters and everything are supposed to be same in both sides of (the same) story, with the only differences being the consequences resulting from whether the curse hit Merlin or Arthur. I guess it didn't go that well, but it was interesting to write. If nothing else, I've never written anything longer! Thanks for reading, if you got this far.


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